Ace, and the factionless (Second fanfic in series)
by Charlotte.Aniston
Summary: The Erudite had attacked the Abnegation, only few escape. Including, Ace, Tobias, Peter, Caleb and...Marcus. Second book of the Ace series, following closely after Ace, Gifts from Marcus. /s/10330227/1/Ace-Gifts-from-Marcus Story better than Summary!
1. Chapter 1

"_We believe that cowardice is to blame for the worlds injustices. We believe that peace is hard-won, that sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. We believe justice is more important than peace. We believe in freedom from fear, in denying our fear the power to influence our decisions. We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. We believe in acknowledging fear and the extent to which it rules us. We believe in facing fear no matter what the cost to our comfort, our happiness, or even our sanity. We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves. We believe, not only in bold words but in bold deeds to match them. we believe that pain and death are better than cowardice and inaction because we believe in action. We do not believe in living comfortable lives. We do not believe silence is useful. We do not believe in good manners. We d not believe in empty heads, empty mouths and empty hands. We do not believe that learning to master violence encourages unnecessary violence. We do not believe that we should be allowed to stand idly by. We do not believe that any other virtue is more important than bravery" – Dauntless Manifesto_

The attack happened fast and hard, I barely managed to escape. I escaped with a woman, Julie, she was my next door neighbour, well I thought I escaped with her. Until about an hour ago, when I removed her cold dead fingers from around my wrist. They found us, the Dauntless found us, and there he was, Eric. Staring at me blankly. I hear the sound of the train, coming closer. And before I open my eyes, I relive our kiss, soft and tender. Is he thinking about me now? Probably not, he must be off killing another thousand, helpless Abnegation families. I take a deep breath and hold it in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that is building in my chest. its dark, and I don't know where I am, but if I hear the train, it's a good sign. I see a doorway and I jump into the door. They'll find out eventually, Mr Prior, Tris, Caleb and, I hope, Four. They'll find out that I'm alive, but unlucky for me, so will Jeanine, and while I know that I cant run forever, I cant live forever either. And I've made peace with it. I sit in the train car and sob. Everything is gone. I'm not in Dauntless anymore, I'm factionless. But I'm not amongst them either, so I'm factionless-less. If that makes sense. I hear voices in the car next to mine and I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob. If I'm lucky I can escape the people in the car next to mine. I might not be able to out run them but I'll try, and if I don't I'll use the knife from my hip to kill them all. the hole in my hip would make a good knife holster, if the knife wasn't covered in our peoples blood. I recognize a voice, even though I cant make out what its saying, its Fours. I let out a sigh of relieve, I don't have to run. I can just lie there until they start jumping. I look out of my door and I see a figure, jumping out of the train, I groan as I get to my feet. The others jump off one by one: Mr Prior first, then Marcus, then Caleb. Four and Tris, together. The wind picks up as i stand at the edge of the car opening, like a hand pushing me back, toward safety. But I launch myself into darkness and land hard on the ground. The impact hurts the wound in my hip. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, and search for my brother.

"Their gone. They attacked us, I'm not aware of anyone else who survived." I say when I see him, my voice hollow, calm and devoid of emotion. I see Caleb, I bow my head to him and he smiles. And as Mr Prior approaches, he looks shorter than he did before they left. And as he comes closer the site of Peter brings up a growl in my throat, and despite me trying to stop it, it comes out anyway. And then I hiss though my teeth as he grins at me. Everybodys eyes are on me, praying I don't get a fit of anger. I turn my head, and look away. We landed in the grass near the fence, several yards away from the worn path that the Amity trucks travel to deliver food to the city, and the gate that lets them out—the gate that is currently shut, locking us in. The fence towers over us, too high and flexible to climb over, too sturdy to knock down. "There are supposed to be Dauntless guards here," says Marcus. "Where are they?"

"They were probably under the simulation," Tobias says, "and are now …" He pauses. "Who knows where, doing who knows what." My eyes dart between the two of them. Four and I are alike, we are both keeping calm heads and trying not to let our feelings get in the way of our judgement. Or so I suppose, that's the only way Marcus could still be alive.

They stopped the simulation but didn't pause to see the aftermath. What happened to our friends, our peers, our leaders, our factions? There is no way to know. Tris pulls a disk from her pocket, "This is the simulation disk." She whispers to me and slides it into her back pocket. Tobias approaches a small metal box on the right side of the gate and opens it, revealing a keypad. "Let's hope the Erudite didn't think to change this combination," he says as he types in a series of numbers. He stops at the eighth one, and the gate clicks open.

"How did you know that?" says Caleb. His voice sounds thick with emotion, so thick I am surprised it does not choke him on the way out.

"I worked in the Dauntless control room, monitoring the security system. We only change the codes twice a year," Tobias says.

"How lucky," says Caleb. He gives Tobias a wary look.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Tobias says. "I only worked there because I wanted to make sure I could get out."

I shiver. The way he talks about getting out—it's like he thinks we're trapped. I never thought about it that way before, and now that seems foolish. We walk in a small pack, Peter cradling his bloody arm to his chest—the arm that Tris shot—and Marcus with his hand on Peter's shoulder, keeping him stable. Caleb wipes his cheeks every few seconds, and I know he's crying but I don't know how to comfort him, or why I am not crying myself.

Instead Tris takes the lead, Tobias silent at her side. I think about Eric, and how I met him. The only reason I met him was because I chose Dauntless, and there are only two reasons I chose Dauntless.

To get away from Marcus.

Because of my aptitude test.

But I could have chosen Erudite, that was my other aptitude test result, so there must be a reason I specifically chose Dauntless,

To get away from Marcus.

Because of the aptitude test

To be with Tobias.

And the only reason he chose Dauntless, was to get away from Marcus. So if he had stayed in Abnegation, I would've too, or moved to Erudite, they seem more logical to me. So the only reason I am so sad is because I fell in love with Eric. And the only reason I fell in love with Eric is because I chose Dauntless. But the reason I chose Dauntless was to be with Tobias, and tobias was in Dauntless. But the only reason he was in Dauntless was to get away from Marcus. And the only reason he wanted to get away from MArcuswas because he abused us. So the only reason met Eric is because Marcus abused us, but if he had never abused us I would never have met Eric. So, that would make up for it, me falling in love. A good thing came from it. but I also realize that if I never met Eric, it wouldn't be that bad when he left, so I wouldn't be so sad. Now I'm alone, I'm factionless and I'm sad. And it's all thanks to Marcus. The other part of me reasons that if I didn't leave Dauntless, I would be in Abnegation and they would've killed me. But then i reason back, I would rather be dead than empty like the factionless. But now there's a reason to live, and it makes my chest heavy. It's all thanks to Marcus. I turn around and slap him in the face. I hit him so hard, my hand print is on his face. He reaches for his cheek, letting go off Peter. Peter falls over and my lip curls. "_Thank you, Marcus. _it _was_ for my own good." I pause, "And this is for _your_ own good." I say, and before I can stop myself I dive at his middle, tackling him into the ground. he let out a cry of pain. I sat on his stomach and punched him in the face. I started crying. Sobbing loudly. i cant believe he abused us. _Punch_. I cant believe mom faked her death. _Punch._ I cant believe Tobias left me. _Punch. _I cant believe he called me insane. _Punch ._i cant believe he thinks he has the right to talk to me. _Punch._ I cant believe Peter tried to kill Tris. _Punch._ I cant believe he still has the nerve to smile at me. _Punch. _I cant believe, tris , Four and Peter are pulling me away. _Punch. _I cant believe they don't understand. They rip me off of him and I fall back on the grass. I sit up on my elbows and then dive forward again at Marcus who sits, holding his face in his hands. They grab me and pull me back. I growl but stand up.

I stood up and Four held my shoulders. I opened my hand and stretched out my fingers, they were throbbing and my , newly healed, knuckles skin was split open. Marcus was wiping away the blood pouring over his face. I couldn't even tell where it was open but his whole face was covered, and gushes of blood ran over his face. I dived forward again, but Fours grip stopped me. "Coward! Coward! You Coward! Fight me! Fight me!" I screamed, and my voice sounded scratchy, hoarse. "Leacve me! Release me!" I scream, struggling to break free of Four's grip. "Let me go Tobias!" I scream. I fall to my knees as he presses a muscle in my neck. I start sobbing loudly, and I can't stop. "Why are you so angry?" Caleb asks me softly, "What did he do to you?"

"You wont understand!"

"Not all of the stories Erusite released are lies." Four says calmly. How can he be so calm?

"Does that mean that…?" he trails off. Four loosens his grip on my shoulders. I look at him and even though my eyes are blurred, I can still see the look n his face, the exact reason I don't want to tell anyone, he looks at me like I'm a kicked puppy or something. Someone who needs sympathy. But I don't, I just need Eric, nothing else. _His grip is_ _looser. _"That's right." I sob, softly. _Looser._ Its almost like he wants me to attack Marcus. I sinff, softly. _Loose enough._ I dive forward, Tris makes a snatch for my shirt, but misses. I hit him ver and I hear shouts behind me. Tris is trying to pull me away and so is Caleb, they're both still stiffs. Four stands and overlooks the situation and Peter must think he deserves it, because the to of them stand there and look at me. "Its all your fault." I say and then stand up and brush myself off, and we continue walking. Peter and Caleb, at my sides, and Peter refuses to be touched by him.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I understand that there's some sort of mix up with my gender….It never occurred to me that my name might be unisexual. Although, I suppose it is. Until now I didn't consider the fact I would have to let you know I am very much manly, I even have the musky smell to prove it. So, Marina92, I was not very pleased when you started your comment with, 'Hey girls!' I honestly, honestly like you as a person. And I get that you couldn't possibly know, I'd just like to say that**

**I AM A MAN.**

**Manly, musky, macho Fist-bumps, **

**Aniston (The man) **

**Hey guys! Sorry about Aniston, he's really pissed off at the fact that someone might think he was a chick…..sorry for the long wait, we've been really busy lately. We're moving houses (Thanks to my parents for having a divorce.) they didn't even consider the chance that I might've been in the middle of a story. So, hope you enjoy this chapter….**

**Female, feminine Kisses, **

**Charlotte, (The girl) **

Pinpricks of light are the first sign that we are nearing Amity headquarters. Then squares of light that turn into glowing windows. A cluster of wooden and glass buildings. Before we can reach them, we have to walk through an orchard. My feet sink into the ground, and above me, the branches grow into one another, forming a kind of tunnel. Dark fruit hangs among the leaves, ready to drop. When we get close, Marcus leaves Peter's side and walks in front. "I know where to go," he says. How? How can he possibly know? It never occurred to me that he might've come from Amity. He leads us past the first building to the second one on the left. All the buildings except the greenhouses are made of the same dark wood, unpainted, rough. I hear laughter through an open window. The contrast between the laughter and the stone stillness within me is jarring. Marcus opens one of the doors. I would be shocked by the lack of security if we were not at Amity headquarters. They often straddle the line between trust and stupidity. Although, at the moment trust is stupidity, isn't it? In this building the only sound is of our squeaking shoes. I don't hear Caleb crying anymore, but then, he was quiet about it before. Marcus stops before an open room, where Johanna Reyes, representative of Amity, sits, staring out the window. I recognize her because it is hard to forget Johanna's face, whether you've seen her once or a thousand times. A scar stretches in a thick line from just above her right eyebrow to her lip, rendering her blind in one eye and giving her a lisp when she talks. I have only heard her speak once, but I remember. She would have been a beautiful woman if not for that scar. "Oh, thank God," she says when she sees Marcus. She walks toward him with her arms open. Instead of embracing him, she just touches his shoulders, like she remembers the Abnegation's distaste for casual physical contact. "The other members of your party got here a few hours ago, but they weren't sure if you had made it," she says. She is referring to the group of Abnegation who were with my father and Marcus in the safe house. I didn't even think to worry about them. She looks over Marcus's shoulder, first at Tobias and Caleb, then Tris, then at me, then at Peter. "Oh my," she says, her eyes lingering on the blood soaking Peter's shirt. "I'll send for a doctor. I can grant you all permission to stay the night, but tomorrow, our community must decide together. And"—she eyes Tris, Tobias and I—"they will likely not be enthusiastic about a Dauntless presence in our compound. I of course ask you to turn over any weapons you might have. "I wonder, suddenly, how she knows that Tris is Dauntless. She's wearing her father's shirt. I look at my uniform, I have Dauntless written all over me. Including my hair, I run my hand over the side that should be bold, but the hair is soft, short, straight streaks of black hair that reach just under my ear. I'm wearing the shirt Eric gave me and even though it is stained with blood I'm not going to throw it away. Its all that I have left of him. At that moment, his smell, which is an even mixture of man and sweat, wafts upward, and it fills my nose, fills my entire head with him. I clench my hands so hard into fists that my fingernails cut into my skin. _Not here. Not here._

"No way," I say. "What if they attack?"

"You'll just have to trust us."

I take the gun out of its holster and place it on the table, two amity's step closer to me and I stand in pat down position. They put my weapon inventory on to the table, consisting of:

1 x the gun I put down,

2 x Pistols, I keep in my shoes

4 x Knifes I keep in my back pockets

3 x Knives I keep in my jacket

5 x Knives kept in the thick platform of my shoe.

3 x Knives kept in my jacket pocket.

But they missed the one from my hip and the gun I keep in the secret pocket of my jacket. Everybody looks at me, and I realize that it's a lot, even by Dauntless standards. I shrug. Everybody lays their weapons on the table, but as Tris puts her hand near her gun. Four stops her hand, lacing his fingers into hers to cover it. unfair, she can keep hers, but I have to hand mine over. Maybe they're afraid I'll kill Marcus. maybe I will. I know it's smart to keep one of our guns. But it would have been a relief if I could keep mine. They're the only things I trust to do something. I don't even know if I trust myself. I mean, how trustworthy am I really? "My name is Johanna Reyes," she says, extending her hand to me. A Dauntless greeting. I am impressed by her awareness of the customs of other factions. I always forget how considerate the Amity are until I see it for myself. "This is T—" Marcus starts, but Tobias interrupts him.

"My name is Four," he says. "This is Tris, Caleb, and Peter and my sister A-"

"Alexia." I interrupt him and they look at me. I don't want these people to know my name. "When I was in Abnegation, my name was Victoria. I'm not in Abnegetion, so I'm not Victoria. When I was in Dauntless I was Ace, I'm not in Dauntless so I'm not Ace. But I'm not factionless either. So here we are, Alexia. Alexia the, the, Alone." I pause, not Victoria the Abnegation, not Ace the Dauntless, Alexia the Alone. They look away and I realize they must think I'm insane, but it doesn't matter anyway. Nothing does, nothing but saving Eric. A few days ago, 'Tobias' was the only name I wanted to say, use against him like an offense, or defense, against my name. I couldn't –wouldn't- understand why he hated his name, I hate my name because it makes me feel weak, and pressed into a tin that's too small. I hate it because that's not me. He doesn't have that problem. He never did, he doesn't care what everybody thinks or says about him. Nothing can make him feel weak, and pressed into a tin that's too small. It is him, he didn't change much, not physiologically, only physically. But I did, I changed, through and through. I think about it and I realize why he hid that name from the world. It binds him to Marcus. "Welcome to the Amity compound." Johanna's eyes fix on my face, and she smiles crookedly. "Let us take care of you."

We do let them. An Amity nurse gives me a salve—developed by Erudite to speed healing—to put on my hip, and then escorts Peter to the hospital ward to mend his arm. Johanna takes us to the cafeteria, where we find some of the Abnegation who were in the safe house. Susan is there, and some of our old neighbours, and rows of wooden tables as long as the room itself. They greet us—especially Marcus—withheld-in tears and suppressed smiles. I sag under the weight of the members of my parents' faction, their lives, their tears. One of the Abnegation puts a cup of steaming liquid under my nose and says, "Drink this. It will help you sleep as it helped some of the others sleep. No dreams." The liquid is pink-red, like strawberries. I grab the cup and drink it fast. For a few seconds the heat from the liquid makes me feel like I am full of something again. And as I drain the last drops from the cup, I feel myself relaxing. Someone leads me down the hallway, to a room with a bed in it. and I sob until I fall into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys. Thinks have been really chaotic and fucked up around here recently, so I would just like to apologize for my lack of action recently. My life was buys, but that didn't mean I could slack off. So I'm going to make it up to you, by posting as many chapters I possibly can. **

**Kisses, **

**Charlotte**

I OPEN MY eyes, terrified, my hands clutching at the sheets. But I am not running through the streets of the city or the corridors of Dauntless headquarters. I am in a bed in Amity headquarters, and the smell of sawdust is in the air. I shift, and wince as something digs into my back. I reach behind me, and my fingers wrap around the gun.

For a moment I see Eric standing in front of me.

I almost scream his name.

Then he's gone.

I get out of bed and lift the mattress with one hand, propping it up on my knee. Then I shove my gun beneath it and let the mattress bury it. Once it is out of sight and no longer pressed to my skin, my head feels clearer. Now that the adrenaline rush of yesterday is gone, and whatever made me sleep has worn off, the deep ache and shooting pains of my hip are intense. I am wearing the same clothes I wore last night. I think about Mr Prior, why didn't he come back? And where is Mrs Prior? Where could she have gone? Someone knocks on my door. I sit on the edge of the bed and try to smooth my hair down.

"Come in," I say.

The door opens, and Four steps halfway in, the door dividing his body in half. He wears the same jeans as yesterday, but a dark red T-shirt instead of his black one, probably borrowed from one of the Amity. It's a strange colour on him, too bright, but when he leans his head back against the doorframe, I see that it makes the blue in his eyes lighter, but not as light as grey did. I get up and run to him, it's the first time we've ever hugged. It's the first time we've had any physical contact since he left Abnegation; if you don't count our fists slamming into each other's faces. He hugs me back, holding me against him, and I half sob, half laugh. "The Amity are meeting in a half hour." He quirks his eyebrows and adds, with a touch of melodrama, _"To decide our fate_." I shake my head. "Never thought my fate would be in the hands of a bunch of Amity."

"Me either. Oh, by the way, you never told me your aptitude test results."

"OH, and you think now that I'm not angry at _you _anymore, I'll tell you?"

"Yes"

"And why is that?"

"Because I have," He unscrews the cap of a small bottle and holds out a dropper filled with clear liquid. "Pain medicine."

"Fine you got me. Dauntless, Erudite….and, secretly, Amity."

"What?" he laughs.

"Yeah, I know. The Amity part is ridiculous."

"Nah, I always knew you were nice, I just think its weird that you're results are contrasts. Erudite thinks thoroughly, Dauntless jump right in. Dauntless fire guns and kill, Amity plant apples. Erudite hold back information if it can get you somewhere, Amity hold back information if they think it's going to hurt you."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I keep the Amity part hidden deep within me. I didn't even few it as an option."

"Why not?"

"They're always so happy." I say, looking around.

"So? Don't you want to be happy?"

"I do, I just didn't think I could ever be happy."

"But you were, right? you had fun at Dauntless."

"Yeah. But now, I feel like smiling is impossible."

"Take a dropperful every six hours." He hands me the bottle. And I hug him.

"Thanks." I squeeze the dropper into the back of my throat. The medicine tastes like old lemon.

He hooks a thumb in one of his belt loops and says, "should I bring you some breakfast?"

"Um, well. Only if it's not a problem for you."

"its no big deal, Alexia."

"Thanks." He turns to leave.

"Wait, Four. I.. i ..i love you."

"I love you to, Vicky." Then he turned and left, I closed the door and smiled. I've never told anyone I love them before, Abnegation didn't allow it. but it's true, I do love Four. He's the only reason I'm still alive, I know that if I die, he will forever wander about it. like the way I did when he left Abnegation. I want to write a whole letter explaining it, and make sure that I help him to reunite the Abnegation and the Dauntless before I leave. and if I succeed? If I succeed I'll jump out of the window in one of the high Erudite buildings. Or into the chasm. Or maybe hang myself, I don't know. I'll do whatever feels good at the time. what about Eric? Eric can come up with a plan, because he claims he's so brave, but in reality he can't even stand up for _me_. Maybe he doesn't feel for me the way I feel for him. It wouldn't be the first time i thought so. I'm over crying, now is the time for being rational, not angry. I sat in the chair in front of my mirror to see if I could do something about my oily, uneven hair when I heard another knock on the door. It couldn't be Four, not that quickly. I opened the door, it was Susan. She handed me a box, "We found it in one of the Amity trucks, and after opening it in the cafeteria we all agree it's yours."

"Thank you Susan." I say and try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

"here is something for your hair. To make it grow." She hands me a bottle of shampoo.

"Thank you, so very much." My grimace changes to a smile. She nods and walks away, I close the door and sit on my bed. The door opens and Four walks in. I take the bowl and kiss him on the cheek. Maybe I'm going too far with this thing….but he smiles, hugs me and then leaves.

The women's bathroom is two doors down. The floor is dark brown tile, and each shower stall has wooden walls and a plastic curtain separating it from the central aisle. A sign on the back wall says REMEMBER: TO CONSERVE RESOURCES, SHOWERS RUN FOR ONLY FIVE MINUTES_. _The stream of water is cold, so I wouldn't want the extra minutes even if I could have them. I wash my hair with the shampoo. The box Susan gave me contained a knife. It had Eric's name on the handle, now it hangs on my shoelace around my neck. I know that if I ask the Amity for string they'll ask a marathon of questions. The pain medicine Four gave me worked fast—the pain in my hip has already faded to a dull throb. When I get out of the shower, a stack of clothes waits on my bed. It contains some yellow and red, from the Amity, and some grey, from the Abnegation, colours I rarely see side by side. If I had to guess, I would say that one of the Abnegation put the stack there for me. It's something they would think to do .I pull on a pair of dark red pants made of denim and a red shirt, on that makes me seem more badass. I can't understand why Amity clothing would do that, but I guess it could just be my inner Dauntless talking. The sleeves come down to my fingertips, and I roll them up too. It hurts to move my right leg, so I keep the movements small and slow. Someone knocks on the door. "Victoria?" The soft voice is Susan's.

"Actually, it's Alexia." I reply softly when I open the door for her. She carries a tray of food, which she sets down on the bed. I search her face for a sign of what she has lost—her father, an Abnegation leader, didn't survive the attack—but I see only the placid determination characteristic of my old faction. "I'm sorry the clothes don't fit," she says. "I'm sure we can find some better ones for you if the Amity allow us to stay."

"They're fine," I say. "Thank you."

"I heard you were hurt. Do you need my help with your hair? Or your shoes?" I am about to refuse, but I really do need help.

"Yes, thank you." I sit down on a stool in front of the mirror, and she stands behind me, her eyes dutifully trained on the task at hand rather than her reflection. They do not lift, not even for an instant, as she runs a comb through my hair. And she doesn't ask about my hip, how I was hurt, what happened when I left the Abnegation safe house to escape. I get the sense that if I were to whittle her down to her core, she would be Abnegation all the way through. My hair is much longer, my left half is just under my breast, but my right side is at my shoulders.

"Wait, no Susan. Hold on." I take the knife away from my neck and cut my hair in one smooth slice, I hear the knife at my ear. I look in the mirror. Now all my hair is at my shoulders. I look better this way, but I still prefer my long hair. Susan fetches the broom and starts to sweep up my long hair, and I let her. My faction's activities, fighting and shooting, keep me calm. Abnegation's activities, helping others, keep her calm.

"Have you seen Robert yet?" I say. Her brother, Robert, chose Amity when I chose Dauntless, so he is somewhere in this compound. I wonder if their reunion will be anything like Four's and mine.

"Briefly, last night," she says. "I left him to grieve with his faction as I grieve with mine. It is nice to see him again, though." I hear a finality in her tone that tells me the subject is closed.

"It's a shame this happened when it did," Susan says. "Our leaders were about to do something wonderful."

"Really? What?"

"I don't know." Susan blushes. "I just knew that something was happening. I didn't mean to be curious; I just noticed things."

"I wouldn't blame you for being curious even if you had been."

She nods and keeps sweeping. I wonder what the Abnegation leaders—including my father—were doing. And I can't help but marvel at Susan's assumption that whatever they were doing was wonderful. I wish I could believe that of people again.

If I ever did.

"The Dauntless wear their hair down, right?" she says.

"Sometimes," I say. "Do you know how to braid?"

So her deft fingers tuck pieces of my hair into one braid that tickles the middle of my spine. I stare hard at my reflection until she finishes. I thank her. And she starts to leave, "Susan, wait."

"yes."

"Have you ever had a friend before?"

"No."

"Do you want one?"

"That depends on if _you_ need one." She said and I laughed, she laughed too at her own stiffness. We spend the rest of the morning talking about us, it was like talking to a normal person, not a stiff. She spoke about herself and I spoke about myself. It turns out that her result was Amity, but she didn't want to hurt her family by changing factions, she was very surprised when Robert chose Amity, after she chose Abnegation. she explains that the Abnegation and the Amity aren't that different, its just that the Abnegation aren't allowed to show their happiness. I've never thought about it like that before. Her father was a very strict Abnegation-born. From a long line of Abnegation-born's. her mother was a Dauntless transfer who hated the Dauntless compound, she hated the danger, the unknown and the fighting; everything I loved about it. her and her brother didn't speak very much at home. I told her about Marcus, about my mom and about Four. I left out the part about him being Four though. I told her about Eric and she told me about Caleb. About how the only way they could flirt in Abnegation was to be extra social. But that's stupid, because you aren't allowed to talk about yourself and that means they can't either, so how do you get to know each other? She laughed when I told her that, like I was some child who couldn't understand anything. Her mother was a nurse and her father was an Abnegation leader. My mother worked with the factionless, and Marcus was an Abnegation leader. She told me about how she always wondered about other people, about how curious she was about other people. She let loose her hair and I braided it into a Dauntless style. She let her hair loose once again and I helped her into some yellow clothes. She smiled, she had the most beautiful smile. Then, when she agreed, I let her sit in front of the mirror as I do her make up for her. When I'm done with her, she does my make-up. Stiffs aren't allowed to wear make-up, but she's so good at it, I have the feeling some of her mom's old Dauntless make-up went missing every once in a while. I stare into the mirror, I look nice. I keep staring, but I don't see myself. I can still feel her fingers brushing against my skin, so much like my mother's fingers, the last morning I saw her, before she faked her death, she came into my room and I pretended to be asleep. Her fingers brushed lightly over my eyelids, the shape of my nose and my lips. Then she left. She leaves because she's hungry; she says it's nice to finally have a friend. I tell her it's no problem and she can come and have lunch here, she admits she wants to eat lunch with caleb. She assures me she's going to be more flirtatious, and that caleb looks good in Yellow. I look back to the mirror, and again I stare and see an unfamiliar person. Maybe I'm under all that make-up? Maybe if I cut away the hair, I'll see myself? I think about what my mother would say, and my head gives a dull throb, like thinking of her hurts too much. My eyes wet with tears, I rock back and forth on the stool, trying to push the memory from my mind. I am afraid that if I start to sob, I will never stop until I shrivel up like a raisin. I see a sewing kit on the dresser. In it are two colours of thread, red and yellow, and a pair of scissors. i don't understand why I'm not allowed to keep my knives, when there is a perfectly dangerous pair of scissors in the cupboard that could be sharpened on the metal head board of my bed or the taps In the shower. Even the bottom of some shoes. I run my fingers through my hair and comb it again. I part my hair down the middle and make sure my hair is cut evenly. Locks of hair fall to the ground, and suddenly I feel like touching them, keeping them our sending them to Eric.

When I go to the cafeteria later, they stare at me like I am not the person they knew yesterday. "You- it's- your hair," says Caleb, his eyebrows high. Grabbing hold of facts in the midst of shock is very Erudite of him. His hair sticks up on one side from where he slept on it, and his eyes are bloodshot. "how very observant of you." I say in a perky way, tilting my head to the side like an Amity. I turn to see Tris, she cut her hair. its really short, but it looks really nice. I wonder if she misses her hair.

"You cut your hair." Caleb repeats.

"Yeah," she says, "Its too hot for short hair."

"Fair enough."

We walk down the hallway together. The floorboards creak beneath our feet. I miss the way my footsteps echoed in the Dauntless compound; I miss the cool underground air. But mostly I miss the fears of the past few weeks, rendered small by my fears now. We exit the building. The outside air presses around me like a pillow meant to suffocate me. It smells green, the way a leaf does when you tear it in half. "Does everyone know you're Marcus' kids?" Caleb says. "The Abnegation, I mean?"

"Not to my knowledge," says Four, glancing at Caleb. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it."

"I don't need to mention it. Anyone with eyes can see it for themselves." Caleb frowns at him. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Eighteen."

"And you don't think you're too old to be with my little sister?" then I tighten my jaw, what if Four thinks Eric is too old for me?

Four lets out a short laugh. "She isn't _your little_ anything." Great, now I can say that when he brings it up.

"Stop it. Both of you," Tris says. A crowd of people in yellow walks ahead of us, toward a wide, squat building made entirely of glass. The sunlight reflecting off the panes feels like a pinch to my eyes. I shield my face with my hand and keep walking. The doors to the building are wide open. Around the edge of the circular greenhouse, plants and trees grow in troughs of water or small pools. Dozens of fans positioned around the room serve only to blow the hot air around, so I am already sweating. But that fades from my mind when the crowd before me thins and I see the rest of the room. In its centre grows a huge tree. Its branches are spread over most of the greenhouse, and its roots bubble up from the ground, forming a dense web of bark. In the spaces between the roots, I see not dirt but water, and metal rods holding the roots in place. I should not be surprised—the Amity spend their lives accomplishing feats of agriculture like this one, with the help of Erudite technology. Standing on a cluster of roots is Johanna Reyes, her hair falling over the scarred half of her face. I learned in Faction History that the Amity recognize no official leader—they vote on everything, and the result is usually close to unanimous. They are like many parts of a single mind, and Johanna is their mouthpiece. Cheesy, isn't it? The Amity sit on the floor, most with their legs crossed, in knots and clusters that vaguely resemble the tree roots to me. The Abnegation sit in tight rows a few yards to my left. My eyes search the crowd for a few seconds before I realize what I'm looking for: my parents. I swallow hard, and try to forget. Four touches my shoulder, guiding me to the edge of the meeting space, behind the Abnegation. I give him a sharp look, letting him know that no one here knows he's my brother. He nods and instead steers Tris. Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to her ear and says, "I like your hair that way." Johanna lifts her hands and bows her head. All conversation in the room ceases before I can draw my next breath. All around me the Amity sit in silence, some with their eyes closed, some with their lips mouthing words I can't hear, some staring at a point far away. Every second chafes. By the time Johanna lifts her head I am worn to the bone. "We have before us today an urgent question," she says, "which is: How will we conduct ourselves in this time of conflict as people who pursue peace?" Every Amity in the room turns to the person next to him or her and starts talking. "How do they get anything done?" I say, as the minutes of chatter wear on. "They don't care about efficiency," Four says. "They care about agreement. Watch." Two women in yellow dresses a few feet away rise and join a trio of men. A young man shifts so that his small circle becomes a large one with the group next to him. All around the room, the smaller crowds grow and expand, and fewer and fewer voices fill the room, until there are only three or four. I can only hear pieces of what they say: "Peace—Dauntless—Erudite—safe house—involvement—"

"This is bizarre," Tris says.

"I think it's beautiful," he says.

Tris and I each give him a look.

"What?" He laughs a little. "They each have an equal role in government; they each feel equally responsible. And it makes them care; it makes them kind. I think that's beautiful."

"It's unstable, and people say the Dauntless are mad." I say.

"I think it's unsustainable," she adds. "Sure, it works for the Amity. But what happens when not everyone wants to strum banjos and grow crops? What happens when someone does something terrible and talking about it can't solve the problem?"

He shrugs. "I guess we'll find out."

Eventually someone from each of the big groups stands and approaches Johanna, picking their way carefully over the roots of the big tree. I expect them to address the rest of us, but instead they stand in a circle with Johanna and the other spokespeople and talk quietly. I begin to get the feeling that I will never know what they're saying.

"They're not going to let us argue with them, are they," Tris says.

"I doubt it," he says.

We are done for.

When everyone has said his or her piece, they sit down again, leaving Johanna alone in the centre of the room. She angles her body toward us and folds her hands in front of her. Where will we go when they tell us to leave? Back into the city, where nothing is safe?

"Our faction has had a close relationship with Erudite for as long as any of us can remember. We need each other to survive, and we have always cooperated with each other," says Johanna. "But we have also had a strong relationship with Abnegation in the past, and we do not think it is right to revoke the hand of friendship when it has for so long been extended."

Her voice is honey-sweet, and moves like honey too, slow and careful. I wipe the sweat from my hairline with the back of my hand.

"We feel that the only way to preserve our relationships with both factions is to remain impartial and uninvolved," she continues. "Your presence here, though welcome, complicates that."

_Here it comes,_ I think.

"We have arrived at the conclusion that we will establish our faction headquarters as a safe house for members of all factions," she says, "under a set of conditions. The first is that no weaponry of any kind is allowed on the compound." By reflex I touch the knife on the necklace under my shirt. "The second is that if any serious conflict arises, whether verbal or physical, all involved parties will be asked to leave. The third is that the conflict may not be discussed, even privately, within the confines of this compound. And the fourth is that everyone who stays here must contribute to the welfare of this environment by working. We will report this to Erudite, Candor, and Dauntless as soon as we can."

Her stare drifts to Four and i, and stays there.

"You are welcome to stay here if and only if you can abide by our rules," she says. "That is our decision." I think of the gun I hid under my mattress, and the tension between me and Marcus, and Four and Marcus, and my mouth feels dry. I am not good at avoiding conflict. If anything, my skill is to create it. "We won't be able to stay long," I say to Four under my breath. A moment ago, he was still faintly smiling. Now the corners of his mouth have disappeared into a frown. "No, we won't."

That evening I return to my room and slide my fingers under the mattress to make sure the gun is still there. I need something to comfort me, even if I know I can't fire it. my fingers brush over the trigger and my door clicks open. I rip my hand out from under the mattress, it's Peter. "Gee, ever heard of knocking?" I ask him harshly, I'm still mad at him but he seems fine with me. He looks away in embarrassment. I actually kind of feel bad. Then I remember what he did to Tris. I remember what he read to the dorms about Abnegation. and my guilt disappears. "Sorry, I just wanted to let you know that Caleb's looking for you." I grabbed his arm as he turned around and he blushed. "Don't tell him I'm here." I say and he pulls his arm away from my grip. He nods and walks out. My eyes start to tear. I can't do this. This is ridiculous. Maybe I should just jump off one of the Amity roofs, its not the death I wanted but anything is better than nothing, right? I see the ghost of my mother, cutting my hair. She hasn't cut it since I was 6. The first time it was cut since then was at the dauntless compound, when I shaved it. I hear her voice. "C'mon Victoria, calm down. Its going to be ok." She says to me and her eyes are wide like she wants to hug me. I want to run to her, but at the back of my mind I know it's an illusion, so my feet stay planted. Tears stream down my cheeks. _And you call yourself a Dauntless? shame on you. _Says my own voice.

_What is wrong with you?_ I shake my head. _Pull it together._

And that is what it feels like: pulling the different parts of me up and in like a shoelace. I feel suffocated, but at least I feel fine. I feel anger and pain. I want to smash everything in my room. But I can't, I can't hurt anyone either. Before I know it I'm holding the knife with Eric's name on it. it hovers over my wrist and before I can stop myself I've drawn a line on my arm and, as if by magic, a thin, red line of blood appears. I feel better. I see a flicker of movement in my periphery, and look out the window that faces the apple orchard. Johanna Reyes and Marcus walk side by side, pausing at the herb garden to pluck mint leaves from their stems. I am out of my room before I can evaluate why I want to follow them. I sprint through the building so that I don't lose them. Once I am outside, I have to be more careful. I walk around the far side of the greenhouse and, after I see Johanna and Marcus disappear into one row of trees, I creep down the next row, hoping the branches will hide me if either of them looks back. "… been confused about is the timing of the attack," says Johanna. "Is it just that Jeanine finally finished planning it, and acted, or was there an inciting incident of some kind?" I see Marcus's face through a divided tree trunk. He presses his lips together and says, "Hmm."

"I suppose we'll never know." Johanna raises her good eyebrow. "Will we?"

"No, perhaps not."

Johanna places her hand on his arm and turns toward him. I stiffen, afraid for a moment that she will see me, but she looks only at Marcus. I sink into a crouch and crawl toward one of the trees so that the trunk will hide me. The bark itches my spine, but I don't move.

"But you _do_ know," she says. "You know why she attacked when she did. I may not be Candor anymore, but I can still tell when someone is keeping the truth from me."

"Inquisitiveness is self-serving, Johanna." If I were Johanna, I would snap at him for a comment like that, but she says kindly,

"My faction depends on me to advise them, and if you know information this crucial, it is important that I know it also so that I can share it with them. I'm sure you can understand that, Marcus."

"There is a reason you don't know all the things I know. A long time ago, the Abnegation were entrusted with some sensitive information," says Marcus. "Jeanine attacked us to steal it. And if I am not careful, she will destroy it, so that is all I can tell you."

"But surely—"

"No," Marcus cuts her off. "This information is far more important than you can imagine. Most of the leaders of this city risked their lives to protect it from Jeanine and died, and I will not jeopardize it now for the sake of sating your selfish curiosity." I can hear footsteps approaching, softly and stealthily. If I wasn't so paranoid at the moment I might not have heard them, but I did. And it could just be my imagine but they sound like a child's footsteps. Johanna is quiet for a few seconds. It's so dark now I can barely see my own hands. The air smells like dirt and apples, and I try not to breathe it too loudly.

"I'm sorry," says Johanna. "I must have done something to make you believe I am not trustworthy." I bump into a figure and cover my mouth with my hand to stifle my scream, Tris bites her lip to stop from screaming. I was right, it was the footsteps of a child. I don't even know why I'm so mad at her, but I feel the urge to stab her.

"The last time I trusted a faction representative with this information, all my friends were murdered," he replies. "I don't trust anyone anymore."

I can't help it—I lean forward so that I can see around the trunk of the tree. Both Marcus and Johanna are too preoccupied to notice the movement. They are close together, but not touching, and I've never seen Marcus look so tired or Johanna so angry. But her face softens, and she touches Marcus's arm again, this time with a light caress.

"In order to have peace, we must first have trust," says Johanna. "So I hope you change your mind. Remember that I have always been your friend, Marcus, even when you did not have many to speak of."

She leans in and kisses his cheek, then walks to the end of the orchard. Marcus stands for a few seconds, apparently stunned, and starts toward the compound. The revelations of the past half hour buzz in my mind. I thought Jeanine attacked the Abnegation to seize power, but she attacked them to steal information—information only they knew. Then the buzzing stops as I remember something else Marcus said: _Most of the leaders of this city risked their lives for it._ Was he one of those leaders? Why couldn't he have died? I am surprised by how negative I've become, but I can't help it. I have to know. I have to find out what could possibly be important enough for the Abnegation to die for—and the Erudite to kill for.

Tris pauses before knocking on Four's door, and I listen to what's going on inside. "No, not like _that_," Four says through laughter.

"What do you mean, 'not like that'? I imitated you perfectly." The second voice belongs to Caleb.

"You did not."

"Well, do it again, then."

She pushes open the door just as Four, who is sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out, hurls a butter knife at the opposite wall. It sticks, handle out, from a large hunk of cheese they positioned on top of the dresser. Caleb, standing beside him, stares in disbelief, first at the cheese and then at me.

"Tell me he's some kind of Dauntless prodigy," says Caleb. "Can you do this too?" he asks Tris. He looks better than he did earlier—his eyes aren't red anymore and some of the old spark of curiosity is in them, like he is interested in the world again. His brown hair is tousled, his shirt buttons in the wrong buttonholes. He is handsome in a careless way, my brother, like he has no idea what he looks like most of the time.

"With my right hand, maybe," She says. "But yes, _Four_ is some kind of Dauntless prodigy. Can I ask _why _you're throwing knives at cheese?"

Four's eyes catch mine on the word "Four." Caleb doesn't know that Four wears his excellence all the time in his own nickname.

"Caleb came by to discuss something," Four says, leaning his head against the wall as he looks at me. "And knife-throwing just came up somehow."

"As it so often does," she says, a small smile inching its way across my face. He looks so relaxed, his head back, his arm slung over his knee. We stare at each other for a few more seconds than is socially acceptable. Caleb clears his throat.

"Anyway, I should be getting back to my room," Caleb says, looking from Four to me and back again. "I'm reading this book about the water-filtration systems. The kid who gave it to me looked at me like I was crazy for wanting to read it. I think it's supposed to be a repair manual, but it's fascinating." He pauses. "Sorry. You probably think I'm crazy too."

"Not at all," Four says with mock sincerity. "Maybe _you_ should read that repair manual too, Tris. It sounds like something you might like."

"I can loan it to you," Caleb says.

"Maybe later," she says. I decide to save her.

"um," my eyes dart between everyone. "That sounds amazing, do you maybe want to chill with Susan and i? you can tell us all about your book." Four raises his eyebrows, and as Caleb turns I mouth the words, _'you owe me.'_ And she just smiles.

"Wait, does this count as a date?"

"Um, no actually. I don't think that is the best idea, it looks as though you're going to be my brother in law soon anyway." Four and Tris look at each other with wide eyes. Caleb doesn't appreciate my joke, so I laugh and shove him softly. But he stumbles and bumps into the wall. God dammit, why are the Dauntless so strong and the Erudite so..so…weak?

When Caleb closes the door behind him, I give Them each a dirty look and then leave. Susan seems pleased that I invited Caleb over, and her flirting, while being less stiff, isn't much better. "I like your hair." She says every once in a while to him. And I nod every once in a while when he talks about things I really don't care about. The more I think this is for Tris the more I want to kill her. Later that evening I tell them I'm going to the bathroom and I do but once I'm there I see my reflection, I've changed a lot. I look older, stronger, like my mother. But as I think about the things I've done, the things I've seen and heard, it becomes ugly, twisted and demented, it becomes something unfamiliar. The kind of things children have nightmares about. I slam my fists against it and it shatters, I then pick up a shard of glass and make another slit in my wrist. Immediately, I feel better but I know it's not for long. i wonder around. I find myself in front of some stairs, and out of curiosity, I climb up them. I push open the door into an empty room, its painted yellow and the chair in the middle reminds me of my one at home. No, not at home. There is no '_home'_, not anymore. Still, the chair gives me the creeps. I walk over to the window and look through it, to the floor. The pavement is beckoning me. Asking me to jump. I can't resist, I step on the window ledge. And look down. I turn around and feel the wind on my back, like it's trying to push me back in. my mother used to pretend she could fashion things from wind and give them to us as gifts. It used to take away the misery and the sadness. She used to make clothes, and dogs from the wind and hand them to Four. I remember how she used to pretend the dog had run away and I would run out in the open, searching for a dog I couldn't see. They would laugh at me, and when she died, I was just 6 turning 7. I fashioned roses for her and put them on her empty coffin. I wonder if Marcus knew it was empty. Maybe that's what I should do, leave my coffin empty. Run away, live with the factionless. Or I could just die. Tendrils of wind wrap around my fingers and I lean back, I'm going to do it. I hope they understand. I breath in my last breath of air. "Goodbye." I whisper and I fall back. I feel my body relax, the falling sensation in my stomach. Its quiet, the only sound is the whistle of the air around me. I hear screams and shouts as I fall. I land in the arms of a man who looks down at me with a sad expression. "Why did you catch me?" I try to keep the anger out of my voice.

"You were falling; you were going to get hurt." I decide that for the sake of everyone around me I shouldn't get angry, well not raise my voice at all.

"Thank you for saving me." I nod and walk back to my room. My cheeks are flushed, for a second there, I was going to die. It was going to be glorious, and then he caught me. He ruined it all. but the Amity always do.


	4. Chapter 4

"BIOTECHNOLOGY HAS BEEN around for a long time, but it wasn't always very effective," Caleb says. He starts on the crust of his toast—he ate the middle first. He sits across from me in the cafeteria, at the table closest to the windows. Carved into the wood along the table's edge are the letters "D" and "T" linked together by a heart, so small I almost didn't see them. I run my fingers over the carving as Caleb speaks. "But Erudite scientists developed this highly effective mineral solution a while back. It was better for the plants than dirt," he says. "It's an earlier version of that salve they put on your hip—it accelerates the growth of new cells." His eyes are wild with new information. Not all the Erudite are power hungry and devoid of conscience, like their leader, Jeanine Matthews. Some of them are like Caleb: fascinated by everything, dissatisfied until they find out how it works. I rest my chin on my hand and smile a little at him. He seems upbeat this morning. I am glad he has found something to distract him from his grief. I found out yesterday that his parents, Mr and Mrs Prior are both gone. I'll see them there eventually, when the Amity stop watching me like a hawk. The man told everybody about my dive. Now they're all there, watching me. "So Erudite and Amity work together, then?" I say.

"More closely than Erudite and any other faction," he says. "Don't you remember from our Faction History book? It called them the 'essential factions'—without them, we would be incapable of survival. Some of the Erudite texts called them the 'enriching factions.' And one of Erudite's missions as a faction was to become both—essential and enriching." It doesn't sit well with me, how much our society needs Erudite to function. But they _are_ essential—without them, there would be inefficient farming, insufficient medical treatments, and no technological advance.

I open my mouth to bite my apple, but I'm not hungry and I've already eaten a slice of bread. It makes me feel bubbly and happy- I don't like it, I prefer anger or passion.

"You aren't going to eat that toast?" he says.

"nah, I don't eat much," I say. "You can have it if you want."

"I'm amazed by how they live here," he says as he takes the toast from my plate. "They're completely self-sustaining. They have their own source of power, their own water pumps, their own water filtration, their own food sources…. They're independent."

"Independent," I say, "and uninvolved. Must be nice."

It _is_ nice, from what I can tell. The large windows beside our table let in so much sunlight I feel like I'm sitting outside. Clusters of Amity sit at the other tables, their clothes bright against their tanned skin. On me the yellow looks dull. "So I take it Amity wasn't one of the factions you had an aptitude for," he says, grinning.

"um, No." I lie, I don't want him to know. The group of Amity a few seats away from us bursts into laughter

. "Keep it down, all right? It's not something I want to broadcast."

"Sorry," he says, leaning over the table so that he can talk quieter. "So what were they?"

I feel myself tensing, straightening. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curious. And besides, my sister is Divergent too. I know what it means." He says, "And, besides that, You can tell me anything."

His green eyes never waver. He's abandoned the useless spectacles he wore as a member of Erudite in favour of an Abnegation grey shirt and their trademark short haircut. He looks just as he did a few months ago, when we were living across the street from each other, both of us considering switching factions.

"Dauntless," I say, "and Erudite."

"_Interesting."_ He says softly to himself.

"Now, if you excuse me, I need to go and…." I want to explore the room upstairs.

"Jump out of a window?" he asks and blood rushes to my face.

"Yes." I say rudely and walk away, trying to find the room again.

Before i can go on, the cafeteria doors open, and a group of Abnegation come in. They wear Amity clothes, like me, but also like me, it's obvious what faction they are really in. They are silent, but not sombre —they smile at the Amity they pass, inclining their heads, a few of them stopping to exchange pleasantries. Susan sits down next to Caleb with a small smile. Her blond hair shines like gold. She and Caleb sit just slightly closer than friends would, though they do not touch. She bobs her head to greet me. "I'm sorry," she says. "Did I interrupt?"

"No," says Caleb. "How are you?"

"I'm well. How are you?"

I am just about to flee the dining hall rather than participate in careful, polite Abnegation conversation when Four comes in, looking harassed. He must have been working in the kitchen this morning, as part of our agreement with the Amity. I have to work in the laundry rooms tomorrow.

"What happened?" I say as he sits down next to me.

"In their enthusiasm for conflict resolution, the Amity have apparently forgotten that meddling creates _more_ conflict," says Four. "If we stay here much longer, I am going to punch someone, and it's not going to be pretty." Caleb and Susan both raise their eyebrows at him. A few of the Amity at the table next to ours stop talking to stare.

"You heard me," Four says to them. They all look away. "As I said," I say, covering my mouth to hide my smile, "what happened?"

"I'll tell you later."

I shrug and leave, when I bump into Marcus. he looks really roughed up. He has a long cut on his forehead and both of his eyes are black. His lips have a few cuts on them. I smile despite of myself. "I did that." I say out loud, without thinking about it. and then I burst out into laughter at my own Candor-ness. I don't know why it's funny, it just is.

The Abnegation sit at a table, but not right next to me—a respectful distance of two seats away, though most of them still nod at us. They were my family's friends and neighbours and co-workers, and before, their presence would have encouraged me to be quiet and self-effacing. Now it makes me want to talk louder, to be as far from that old identity and the pain that accompanies it as possible. I can see anger brewing in Marcus's eyes. It's just so damn funny. Four goes completely still when a hand falls on Tris's right shoulder. I clench my teeth to keep from laughing.

"She got shot in that shoulder," Four says without looking at the man behind her. "My apologies." Marcus lifts his hand and sits down on her left. "Hello." I decide I better stay, if something happens I don't want to miss the opportunity to beat the shit out of Marcus. again.

"What do _you_ want?" She says.

"Beatrice," Susan says quietly. "There's no need to—"

"Susan, please," says Caleb quietly. She presses her lips into a line and looks away.

Tris frowns at Marcus. "I asked you a question."

"I would like to discuss something with you," says Marcus. His expression is calm, but he's angry—the terseness in his voice betrays him. "The other Abnegation and myself have discussed it and decided that we should not stay here. We believe that, given the inevitability of further conflict in our city, it would be selfish of us to stay here while what remains of our faction is inside that fence. We would like to request that you escort us."

I did not expect that. Why does Marcus want to return to the city? Is it really just an Abnegation decision, or does he intend to do something there—something that has to do with whatever information the Abnegation have? I stare at him for a few seconds and then look at Four. He has relaxed a little, but he keeps his eyes focused on the table. I don't know why he acts this way around his father. No one, not even Jeanine, makes Four cower. My fingers go instinctively to my wrist, it now has about 7 slits on them, what can I say? Last night was long and restless and my only companion was the personality an old man I once read about in a book, and my own anger.

"What do you think?" Tris says.

"I think we should leave the day after tomorrow," Four says.

"Okay. Thank you," says Marcus. He gets up and sits at the other end of the table with the rest of the Abnegation. I inch closer to Four, not sure how to comfort him without making things worse. I get up and leave, 'accidently' kicking Marcus's chair so that the leg breaks and he lands on his fat bottom. I hear laughter, and recognize it as my own

.

I wake up in my bed, startled by something that happened in my dream. I try and remember what it was, but it's like trying to cup water with my hands, the memories trickling through my fingers. I see my mother, her dark hair is in her face as she moves the hair out of my face. My eyes are blurry but I know it's her, I can just tell. And Marcus is there, he's pacing the room nervously. I must be in the doctor's office, maybe they discovered my bruises. Maybe now they'll save me. They'll take me to the social workers. Where Tobias and I can live happily together with our mom. We can fashion things from wind, and do weird things like we used to. He can call me 'Vicky' again and I can call him 'Tobiath' because my front teeth have fallen out. And we can be Abnegation and help our neighbours and then we can bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and then everybody can eat cake and be happy. Then my mom opens her mouth to say she loves me, but it's not her voice that comes out, it's not even a woman's voice. and he isn't saying I love you. And he isn't brushing hair out of my face, he's moving an electrode from my forehead. And Marcus is pacing, not nervously, angrily. And Four is there, but he's wearing Amity uniform and holding hands with a blonde girl I don't know. He isn't 8 anymore, he's 18 and he's sitting with Tris. My whole fantasy comes crashing to an end when I realize what's going on. I'm not 7 anymore, I have my front teeth, my mother is gone, there is war, Eric left me, I have an electrode on my forehead and I want to die on the spot. I rip the electrode from my forehead and my cheek and neck. "Fuck all of you. I'm leaving." I know where I'm going, to the window. I'm going to jump, and this time no one is going to catch me at the bottom. I'll make sure of it.

"Where are you going?" Marcus shouts, blocking the door.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" I say, trying to go around him. But he blocked my path. "Yes actually, I would."

"Where are you going?" Four asks.

"I'm going home." I say in a cry baby voice."Pleathe. Pleathe, Tobiath." I say with a lisp I haven't had since I grew back my front teeth. "Let me go." His face doesn't soften, he grabs my wrist and then looks down at the slits. Now I have about 12. "What is that?" he asks me softly so only I can hear. I rip my arm away and say loud enough for the whole room to hear, "My comfort. Now I'm leaving."

"Wait! Alexia!" I almost forget that's my name. but I remember, and then look at him.

"Look, you don't need me here, the faster I leave this place the better."

"Where will you go?"

"I'm going to visit Mr and Mrs Prior," I say, figuring he might understand.

"They're dead."

"I know." I say and turn around. As my hand touches the door knob he grips my upper arm.

"Wait, we have something to make you feel better."

"Unless it's a gun or a fight, I don't want it."

"What about a hunt? The opportunity to fire a gun?"

"I'd like that; if it was true." I know it isn't.

"Well, we get meat from the hunters, the Dauntless hunters, it's an occupation we didn't teach you about. You only become a hunter if you have a natural skill, like you."

"And?"

"And, the Amity think it would be better for you to leave the compound and hunt for a while."

"Gee, thanks." Maybe I'll do it there, once the give me the gun I'll shot myself in the forehead, it'll be a better way to die, killed by the thing I love. I'm looking forward to the hunt. I'm looking forward to death. Maybe it is an unknown, just another Dauntless adventure. But this was a Dauntless adventure and look at how it ended, maybe adventures are overrated. But life is overrated. A part of me what wonders: what's going to happen next? But every fibre in my body tells me that I'd rather die than find out.

I sit quietly and calmly in the Amity fields, I'm so far from them I don't even know where they are. But I know that Chad, an Amity security guard, isn't far behind me. The Amity saw right through my plan with the gun and let me used a dart gun instead, they also sent Chad, a bouncer-like Amity who holds a syringe of serum. I don't know what it does, but I'm not taking chances. I don't think about death, instead I focus on hunting. For the past hour I've been stalking a group of deer. They're very intent and look out for any sound, so if I make a single sound, they'll disappear in seconds. I walk slowly behind them, when they run. But not away from me; towards me. They must've heard, or seen something that frightened them. what could it possibly be? I don't care. Who or whatever it was chased away the only thing that took my mind off of glorious death. So, all I can do is relax. I walk to where I saw a dam earlier and wash my face and hands. Maybe I can drown myself. I could strip naked, and get in. Chad would think I'm having a bath, then I would go under and not come up, not until my body starts to float. But I don't like the idea of being found naked. And besides, I don't think undressing in this weather is a good idea. You could call it morning air if you liked, but my breath is like smoke. So It creeps me out. It reminds me of the cigar, the one they handed me at Al's funeral, they did look happier than the rest of us. Maybe I should've taken a puff. I walk back slowly to the Amity compound, but then turn around. Maybe swimming isn't such a bad idea, if I get cold enough I might die of pneumonia. Or frost bite. But I hesitate. There's nothing I really can do to stop it. I decide to run, to run like the Dauntless used to. I yell and scream and hear Chads footsteps behind me as he tries to follow me. I stand on a higher level ground and feel the wind whip through my clothes. It goes through my hair and wraps around my fingers. I lean back, and fall straight to the ground. then, as if I'm a 5 year old, I roll down the hill. I'm straying farther and farther from the Amity compound and Chad is struggling to keep up. I haven't had so much in a long time. I decide to run back to the compound and I do, but when I reach the orchards its nearing late afternoon. Nobody is outside, but its not dark yet. So I take this opportunity to take a dive in the lake just outside the orchards. This is my first time swimming, and its freezing. But my head is staying above the crystal clear water and that's all I need. I hear footsteps behind me. They're wearing boots. I can see my fingers becoming blue in the water, so I suppose my lips are blue too, whoever it is I don't want them to see my lips. Because then someone would think I'm in trouble and try to save me. They sound a lot like Dauntless boots, like my Dauntless boots. "S-S-S-Susan, t-t-t-take off m-m-my boots-s-s." I say, shivering. "Th-Th-Th-they're all I h-h-have left-t-t-t of Daunt-t-t-tless." I say in a sad but stern voice. my body is numb with cold. This is a good thing.

"Hey, Ace? Ace? Oh my god." I hear Eric's voice and then it goes dark.

When I wake up, I'm outside, nobody is wearing a jacket, I'm wearing all of their jackets and jerseys. I'm not sure what happened, or where I am. But wherever it is, it smells like something I've been craving. It smells like Eric. "Where are the others?" whispers Susan. Tris says, "Gone." Susan sobs. My face burns with shallow cuts from the corn leaves, but my eyes are dry. The Abnegation deaths are just another weight I am able to set down. I open my eyes to look up at Eric, behind him is the dark night sky. This all seems real, but I know its only a dream. I put my finger to his lips and trace them. my fingers are blue, yes this is a dream. This is the dream you get when you're dying and they're trying to save you. They must've found me then. He looks down at me and he smiles, but then he frowns, like he was expecting my nose to be purple but now it's not. It's probably blue, like my fingers. "is she awake? Or just doing that in her sleep?" Four asks

"She's asleep." Eric answers and looks up again.

"I'm awake." I say loudly, but he doesn't hear me. so I lie still and continue touching his facial features. We stay away from the dirt road and then I realize we're following the train tracks toward the city. There is nothing here, no trees or buildings that can shield us if someone attacks, but it doesn't matter.

"I have to … stop …" says Susan from somewhere in the darkness behind me. We stop. Susan collapses to the ground, crying, and Caleb crouches next to her. Four and Tris look toward the city, which is still illuminated, because it's not midnight yet. Eric puts me down in a lying position and he kisses me. I laugh. This is not real. Four and Tris turn around. I laugh again, "How long is this going to last anyway?" I say, trying to sit up, but only succeeding in lifting my head.

"How long is what going to last?" Four asks me, worried.

"This stupid dream, I want to know how long it's going to last."

"this is real life." Eric says.

"Hahaha. That's what you said last week in my dream."

"Really?" he frowns.

"Yeah, so we can cut the shit. How long is this going to last?" my pinkie finger is tingling, so I wave it around in the air, and to me that's one hell of a movement.

"Wake. Up. This is real life." Four says harshly.

"Wait, so I'm not dead?" they all look at me and stare.

"No." Peter says

"So I'm alive?" everybody nods at once.

"Great." I say, my mouth basically dripping with sarcasm. I want to feel something. Fear, anger, grief. But I don't. All I feel is the need to keep moving. My hand has movement, and I wave it around, maybe I can reach the gun over there and press it to my head.

"Hey, Peter. Do me a favour?" he nods, "Move my right arm to my head." He does, "Now, pass me that gun over there, put it in my hand, ok?" I ask and he hands me the gun. Eric rips it from my hands. "No." he says sternly. My arm is tingling.

"What makes you think I have to listen to you?" I ask and try to move my jelly arm to the knife around my neck. I fumble with the knife before pressing it to my neck, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then he snatches it, and by reflex, I slap him. "Why do you want to kill yourself anyway?"

"Because there's no reason to live." I say and then my upper body tingles. I feel a sharp pain in my hip and push both my arms to hold on to my wound. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. But it doesn't help and I blink back tears.

Four turns toward Tris.

"What was that, Tris?" he says.

"What?" She says, and it is shameful how weak her voice sounds. I don't know whether he's talking about, because I was dead then. Ahh, the good times. "You froze! Someone was about to kill you and you just _sat_ there!" He is yelling now. "I thought I could rely on you at least to save your own life!" oh god, someone tried to shoot her and she couldn't defend herself? Eric kisses me to distract me from what's going on around me. it doesn't help.

"Hey!" says Caleb. "Give her a break, all right?"

"No," says Four, staring at her. "She doesn't need a break." His voice softens. "What happened?" He still believes that she is strong. I used to think he was right, but now I am not sure. She clears her throat. I am strong too. Strong enough that I don't need this shit, this kissing. "I panicked," She says. "It won't happen again."

He raises an eyebrow.

"It won't," She says again, louder this time.

"Okay." He looks unconvinced. "We have to get somewhere safe. They'll regroup and start looking for us."

"Wait excuse me, who?" I say and he sighs.

"You think they care that much about us?" Tris says.

"Us, yes," he says. "We were probably the only ones they were really after, apart from Marcus, who is most likely dead."

I don't know how I expected him to say it—with relief, maybe, because Marcus, his father and the menace of his life, is finally gone. Or with pain and sadness, because his father might have been killed, and sometimes grief doesn't make much sense. But he says it like it's just a fact, like the direction we're moving or the time of day. I would have said it like that too because that's the way it works, I do dangerous things, people die and I move on to more dangerous things.

"Four …" She starts to say.

"Time to go," Four says over his shoulder.

Caleb coaxes Susan to her feet. She moves only with the help of his arm across her back, pressing her forward. Eric tries to help me, but I don't need his help. Well I do, but I'm not going to let him know that. I don't need anyone, I am completely independent. I should be, anyway. The faster that sinks, in the better. I can't risk getting hurt, or shot if I rely on someone to protect me. Because once they're gone I'm screwed. And, I want to show Eric that I don't need him, that he is a luxury. Because obviously that's all I am to him. I need to move forward. I have to. My legs are numb still, and I feel like I will topple over at any moment, but that's the way I need to live. I didn't realize until that moment that Dauntless initiation had taught me an important lesson: how to keep going.


	5. Chapter 5

WE DECIDE TO follow the railroad tracks to the city, because none of us is good at navigation. Eric walks in n that side of the tracks, I walk on this side, slowly kicking up dust, every movement hurts my hip. Tris walks from tie to tie, Four balances on the rail, wobbling only occasionally, and Caleb and Susan shuffle behind us. I twitch at every unidentified noise, tensing until I realize it is just the wind, or the squeak of Four's shoes on the rail. I wish we could keep running, but it's a feat that my legs are even moving at this point. Then I hear a low groan from the rails.

I bend down and press my palms to the rail, closing my eyes to focus on the feeling of the metal beneath my hands. The vibration feels like a sigh going through my body. I stare between Susan's knees down the tracks and see no train light, but that doesn't mean anything. The train could be running with no horns and no lamps to announce its arrival. I see the gleam of a small train car, far away now but approaching fast. "It's coming," I say. It is an effort to get to my feet when all I want to do is sit down, but I do, brushing my hands on my jeans.

"I think we should get on." Tris says.

"Even if it's run by the Erudite?" says Caleb.

"If the Erudite were running the train, they would have taken it to the Amity compound to look for us," Four says. "I think it's worth the risk. We'll be able to hide in the city. Here we're just waiting for them to find us." We all get off the tracks. Caleb gives Susan step-by-step instructions for getting on a moving train, the way only a former Erudite can. I watch the first car approach; listen to the rhythmic bump of the car over the ties, the whisper of metal wheel against metal rail. Its calming. As the first car passes me, I start to run. I ignore the burning in my legs and the pain in my hip. Caleb helps Susan into a middle car first, then jumps in himself. Tris take a quick breath and throws her body to the right, slamming into the floor of the car with her legs dangling over the edge. Caleb grabs her left arm and pulls her in the rest of the way. Four uses the handle to swing himself in after her. I'm still running, and I see Eric in the corner of my eye. he laces my hand and wraps his fingers around my hip. It hurts, but I don't say anything. He jumps to the side, and we land in the car. I look up, and stop breathing.

Eyes glitter in the darkness. Dark shapes sit in the car, more numerous than we are.

The factionless.

_*Flash back*_

_My mother hugged me. Her black hair was tied up, and her blue eyes gleamed. She kissed me, "I love you so much, my darling." I remember what she used to say when I said that._

"_I love you tho much more, mommy." I said with my lisp and she smiled. She looked at the clock in the kitchen, my mother was very aware of the time; all the time. she was never seen without her watch. This morning she was going to deliver food to the factionless children. I begged my mother if I could come with, but she often told me how dangerous the factionless were. So I stayed. She turned and she left through the door. Tobias was in the other room, being thrashed. I could hear his screams and sobs from the door. Marcus was having a bad day, he hit extra hard today, but Tobias is lucky, he gets to go to school, but I can't. I have to stay at home, locked away. Like a princess in a tower, with a beautiful mother and a mean and evil father. I was going to have my prince. Someday he would come, and rescue me I thought. But now i know that I don't need a prince. after she left, I noticed her watch. It was on the counter top. I had to give it to her. She hates it when she isn't wearing it. I grabbed the watch, and ran. Everybody knew I was Marcus's daughter, and tried to stop me. but that was fine, because every locked away princess has enemies who despise her, why just look at snow white. Even the trees hated her. These people were just trees. I sprinted to my mother, I saw her, just around the corner. But she was with a factionless girl and her father. "So, Evelyn, when will be getting the invites to your funeral?" my mother scowled._

"_You're going to die, aunt Evelyn?" the child asked and my mother went down on her knees. _

"_No, child. your father is talking about the surge."_

"_So why does he say you're going to die."_

"_My baby, I have to leave my old faction to join you guys."  
"So why do you have to die?"_

"_I won't. It'll just seem that way." She kissed her forehead, the way she kissed mine. "And Tim, you won't be getting invited." My mother said straightening. "But I'm planning on dying next week, Monday." Monday? My mom was going to die. She was going to join the _factionless,_ and leave us behind. I ran, back to our house. _

_*End of flashback*_

The wind whistles through the car. Everyone is on their feet and armed—except Susan, Tris and I, who have no weapons. Susan is too weak to fire a gun, Tris is like allegric to them or something, she can't remember how to fire a gun. And I, well Four knows me well enough to know that I will pierce my forehead with a bullet the minute I get the gun. A factionless man with an eye patch has a gun pointed at Four. I wonder how he got it. Next to him, an older factionless woman holds a knife—the kind I used to cut bread with. Behind him, someone else holds a large plank of wood with a nail sticking out of it.

"I've never seen the Amity armed before," the factionless woman with the knife says. The factionless man with the gun looks familiar. He wears tattered clothes in different colours—a black T-shirt with a torn Abnegation jacket over it, blue jeans mended with red thread, brown boots. All faction clothing is represented in the group before me: black Candor pants paired with black Dauntless shirts, yellow dresses with blue sweatshirts over them. Most items are torn or smudged in some way, but some are not. Freshly stolen, I imagine.

"They aren't Amity," the man with the gun says. "They're Dauntless."

Then I recognize him: he is Edward, a fellow initiate who left Dauntless after Peter attacked him with a butter knife. That is why he wears an eye patch. I remember Tris, steadying his head as he lay screaming on the floor, and cleaning the blood he left behind.

"Hello, Edward," She says.

He inclines his head to her, but doesn't lower his gun. "Tris."

"Whatever you are," the woman says, "you'll have to get off this train if you want to stay alive."

"Please," says Susan, her lip wobbling. Her eyes fill with tears. "We've been running … and the rest of them are dead and I don't …" She starts to sob again. "I don't think I can keep going, I …"

I get the strange urge to hit my head against the wall. Other people's sobs make me uncomfortable. It's selfish of me, maybe.

"We're running from the Erudite," says Caleb. "If we get off, it will be easier for them to find us. So we would appreciate it if you let us ride into the city with you."

"Yeah?" Edward tilts his head. "What have you ever done for us?"

"I helped you when no one else would," Tris says. "Remember?"

"You, maybe. But the others?" says Edward. "Not so much."

"I beat the hell out of Peter when you left." He still points his gun at me.

Four steps forward, so Edward's gun is almost against his throat.

"My name is Four Eaton," Four says. "I don't think you want to push me off this train." The effect of the name on the people in the car is immediate and bewildering: they lower their weapons. They exchange meaningful looks. Then they look at me. I clear my throat, they're expecting me to say I'm Victoria. But I'm not. I'm not Victoria, the Abnegation. or Ace the Dauntless. Or Alexia the Amity.

"Eaton? Really?" Edward says, eyebrows raised. "I have to admit, I did not see that coming." He clears his throat. "Fine, you can come. But when we get to the city, you've got to come with us."

Then he smiles a little. "We know someone who's been looking for you, Four Eaton _and?_" he looks at me and Eric grabs my hand, but I move it away. He's a coward, he has lost the right to hold my hand. I sound like a child.

"Victoria Eaton." Four says.

I put my head in between my knees. I'm trying not to cry. But it's impossible. I feel a body shift and bump me. I don't even know who it is; I don't care.

"Someone's looking for you, you and Fou- _Tobias_." it's Eric.

I nod.

"Do you know who it is?"

I nod.

"Who, then?"

"It's hard to explain," i say. "I have a lot to tell you." It's Evelyn, I know It is. She left us, she left me. But it would be unfair for me to shoot her if I didn't shoot Four, he left me too.

I don't know how much time passes before they tell us to get off. But when they do, we are in the part of the city where the factionless live, about a mile from where I grew up. I recognize each building we pass as one I walked by every time I missed the bus home from school. The one with the broken bricks. The one with a fallen streetlight leaning against it.

We stand in the doorway of the train car, all of us in a line. Susan whimpers.

"What if we get hurt?" she says.

Tris grabs her hand. "We'll jump together. You and me. I've done this a dozen times and never got hurt." She nods. "On three. One," She says, "Two. _Three_."

She jumps, and pulls her with. Her feet slam into the ground and continue forward, but Susan just falls to the pavement and rolls onto her side. I jump, and land perfectly on my feet, again. Aside from a scraped knee, though, Susan seems to be all right. The others jump off without difficulty—even Caleb, who has only jumped from a train once before, as far as I know. I'm not sure what everyone is thinking, I didn't tell anyone, and I don't think Four would. Every time Eric looks at me I turn away, like I can't look at him. But the truth is, all I want is to look at him. Caleb and Eric engage in conversation all the time, talking about things only the Erudite would be interested in. but sometimes they speak in hushed voices, and I know that they're sharing their theories about who it is that's looking for us. Susan seems to have calmed down. She walks on her own now, next to Caleb, and her cheeks are drying with no new tears to wet them. Four walks beside Tris, touching her shoulder lightly.

Eric walks next to me. he looks sad, and every time he looks at me, he looks like a child awaiting candy, but instead he receives an apple. He looks disappointed. But he should be, I'm a failure. "What happened to your hip?" he asks me softly, trying to start a conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I say.

"I'm talking about your limp, the way you flinched and almost cried when I touched your hip and the tone in your voice."

"while we were at the Amity compound," I think of an excuse, "I was stung by a bee." I say it slowly, trying to make it seem less like a lie. Because the last thing I need right now is sympathy.

"Stung by a bee." He repeats slowly. "_Stung by a bee?"_

"Next topic."

"Alright, so let's talk about your name what do you prefer to be called? Because I know that your real name is Victoria. And I know that you want to get as far away from who you were, so I'm not sure if I should call you Ace. But the Amity called you Alexia." I purse my lips, even I can't answer that. "So what would you prefer?" he adds softly and I look away.

"I would prefer it if we could talk about something else."

"Alright. How about, I ask you questions, if you don't want to answer, don't."

"Are you mad at me?" I look at him, and then look away.

_Like hell. _

"Ok. Do you love me?"

_I think so._

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?"

_Everything. _

"Ok, um. What should a Dauntless boy do, to let a girl know he loves her?"

"He could, buy her roses, and chocolate. And take her out for diner and write her love poems. _He could be there when she needs him_."

"How about after he did something wrong?" I look at him. We're talking in third person. And, while being ridiculous, It makes me feel better.

"Depending on what he did wrong."

"How about, having the chance to save her life, and letting it slip by."

"He could, talk to her about it. explain it."

"What if she doesn't want to talk to him? what if she thinks it's a waste of time? does she?"

"She should. He could try talking in third person. Because it wouldn't hurt."

"So this, that he's doing now, is it working?"

"It is. She likes it."

"Does she have a name?"

"No. she'll never have one."

"Why not?"

"Because names are overrated." I look away.

"So may he call her babe?"

"He may not."

"So, what _really_ happened to her hip?"

"She really doesn't know. After she ran away from the place he told her to stay, she reached a safe house. When she was there, they found a knife in her hip"

"And does it hurt?"

"It does."

"He wants to tell the girl that he loves her. To let her know that he's sorry. And he doesn't care if she doesn't have a name, because she's wonderful."  
"She thinks that is amazing. She wants to tell him that it was her fault. To reassure him she does love him, almost as much as death itself. But she can't see this working_._"

"He's confused. Does she love death?" he says, and I can just see everyone else around us, staring at us and smiling, or realizing how serious it is and trying to hide their smirks and sniggers. Maybe they think 'she' is insane,

Nothing new.  
"Very much."

"Why?"

"Because, she can." he has no answer for that. The factionless lead us down the street and left into a grimy alleyway that stinks of garbage. Rats scatter in front of us with squeaks of terror, and I see only their tails, slipping between mounds of waste, empty trash cans, soggy cardboard boxes. I breathe through my mouth so I don't throw up. Edward stops next to one of the crumbling brick buildings and forces a steel door open. I wince, half expecting the entire building to fall down if he pulls too hard. The windows are so thick with grime that almost no light penetrates them. We follow Edward into a dank room. In the flickering glow of a lantern, I see … people.

People sitting next to rolls of bedding. People prying open cans of food. People sipping bottles of water. And children, weaving between the groups of adults, not confined to a particular colour of clothing—factionless children. We are in a factionless storehouse, and the factionless, who are supposed to be scattered, isolated, and without community … are together inside it. Are together, like a _faction_. It freaks me out, the only point of becoming factionless is to feel alone and unwanted. I don't know what I expected of them, but I am surprised by how normal they seem. They don't fight one another or avoid one another. Some of them tell jokes, others speak to each other quietly. Gradually, though, they all seem to realize that we aren't supposed to be there.

"Come on," Edward says, bending his finger to beckon us toward him. "She's back here."

Stares and silence greet us as we follow Edward deeper into the building that is supposed to be abandoned. Finally I can't contain my questions any longer. I open my mouth and then-

"What's going on here? Why are you all together like this?" Tris explodes

"You thought they—we—were all split up," Edward says over his shoulder. "Well, they were, for a while. Too hungry to do much of anything except look for food. But then the Stiffs started giving them food, clothes, tools, everything. And they got stronger, and waited. They were like that when I found them, and they welcomed me." We walk into a dark hallway. I feel at home, in the dark and the quiet that are like the tunnels in Dauntless headquarters. Four, however, winds a loose thread from his shirt around his finger, backward and forward, over and over. He knows who we're meeting, and I do too. How is it that they know so little about me? do you think Eric knows? Because I didn't tell him. Did you?

Edward stops at a metal door and pounds on it with his fist.

"Wait, you said they were waiting?" says Caleb. "What were they waiting _for_, exactly?"

"For the world to fall apart," Edward says. "And now it has."

The door opens, and a severe-looking woman with a lazy eye stands in the doorway. Her steady eye scans the four of us.

"Strays?" she says.

"Not hardly, Therese." He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, at Four. "These one's are Tobias and Victoria Eaton."

Therese stares at us for a few seconds, then nods. "they certainly are. Hold on." She shuts the door again. Four swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. And I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. I'm nervous, what am I going to say? What is she going to say?

"You know who she's going to get, don't you," says Caleb to us.

"Caleb," Four says. "Please shut up

To my surprise, Caleb suppresses his Erudite curiosity.

The door opens again, and Therese steps back to let us in. We walk into an old boiler room with machinery that emerges from the darkness so suddenly Tris hit them with her knees and elbows. It's so tense, I don't even laugh or smile. I do think its funny, I just can't. Therese leads us through the maze of metal to the back of the room, where several bulbs dangle from the ceiling over a table. A middle-aged woman stands behind the table. She has curly black hair and olive skin. Her features are stern, so angular they almost make her unattractive, but not quite. Its her.

My one hand clutches my other hand. Because in that moment, in that spilt-second, everybody will know. They'll see it in the colour of our eyes. We also have the same strong jaw, distinct chin, spare upper lip, stick-out ears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Eric's point of view.**

"Evelyn," Four says, his voice shaking a little.

Evelyn was the name of Marcus's wife and Victoria's mother. Just days ago I was remembering her funeral. Her _funeral_. And now she stands in front of me, her eyes colder than the eyes of any Abnegation woman I've ever seen.

"Hello." She walks around the table, surveying Four. "You look older."

"Yes, well. The passage of time tends to do that to a person."

He already knew she was alive. How long ago did he find out? And Victoria doesn't look shocked either.

She smiles. "So you've finally come—"

"Not for the reason you think," he interrupts her. "We were running from Erudite, and the only chance of escape we had required me to tell your poorly armed lackeys my name." She must have made him angry somehow. But I can't understand how. If my mother was dead for such a long time, I wouldn't speak to her like that. The truth of that thought makes me ache. I push it aside and focus instead on what's in front of me. On the table behind Evelyn is a large map with markers all over it. A map of the city, obviously, but I'm not sure what the markers mean. On the wall behind her is a chalkboard with a chart on it. I can't decipher the information in the chart; it's written in shorthand I don't know. My mind dwells, maybe their codes for cetain people? Like names? My mother used to do that, she used t have a map I her office. "I see." Evelyn's smile remains, but without its former touch of amusement. "Introduce me to your fellow refugees, then."

Her eyes drift down to our Four and Tris' hands. Four's fingers spring apart. He gestures to her first. "This is Tris Prior. Her brother, Caleb. And their friend Susan Black."

"Prior," she says. "I know of several Priors, but none of them are named Tris. Beatrice, however …"

"Well," She says, "I know of several living Eatons, but none of them are named Evelyn." Ace gave her a high-five. That sounded extremely Ace-like. Speaking of which, I can see the beads on sweat in her neck. . And I can basically hear her heart hammering. She gulps softly. "Evelyn Johnson is the name I prefer. Particularly among a pack of Abnegation."

"Tris is the name _I_ prefer," Tris replies. "And we're not Abnegation. Not all of us, anyway."

Evelyn gives Four a look. "Interesting friends you've made."

She eyes Ace and I carefully. Four didn't introduce us, on purpose. He knows how independent Victoria likes to be.

"Victoria." She says.

"Mother." Ace says.

"You also look, older, stronger than when I last saw you."

"That was nine years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't recognize me, in fact I'd prefer that."

"So, you chose Dauntless?"

"I did." She nodded.

"it suits you, Victoria."

"Tobias, why is your sister so angry?" Evelyn asks like Victoria is a 7 year old. I can see it pisses her off. Four opens his mouth, "Because she doesn't like being called that." I say before he can. I need to show her I can be brave.

"I prefer to be called Ace." She adds, and Her mother nods.

"Ace." She repeats.

" As in, best."

"Yeah, she's amazing… I know my little girl."

"I'm not _your _little anything." She speaks up. "I'm my own person. And so is Tobias. we're nothing of yours, you decided that when you left us alone." She adds and, only for a second, Evelyn looks offended. Then she goes back to her usual boredom.

"I see."

"And this is Eric. he comes from _my _old faction. He makes _me_ feel good. He's my, my- he's my, my- the love of my life. ". so much for a good first impression. I cannot believe she called me the love of her life, a few seconds ago she hated me, must be to impress her mother. But I go along with the act, and bring her closer to me by wrapping my arm around her hip and pulling her towards me. When she says it, her voice slightly wavers. It''s hard to believe; no one makes her cower. Not even Marcus.

"Those are population counts?" says Caleb from behind me. He walks forward, his mouth open. "And … what? Factionless safe houses?" He points to the first line on the chart, which reads _7…. Grn Hse._ "I mean, these places, on the map? They're safe houses, like this one, right?"

"That's a lot of questions," says Evelyn, arching an eyebrow. I recognize the expression. It belongs to Four—as does her distaste for questions. But her eyes are still Ace's, in the spitting image. As if she stole them. she seems like the kind that steals. "For security purposes, I will not answer any of them. Anyway, it is time for dinner." She gestures toward the door. Susan and Caleb start toward it, followed by me and Tris; Ace, Four and their mother are last. We work our way through the maze of machinery again.

"I'm not stupid," she says in a low voice. "I know you want nothing to do with me—though I still don't quite understand why—"

Four snorts and Ace gives a short laugh.

"But," she says, "I will extend my invitation again. We could use your help here, and I know you are like-minded about the faction system—"

"Evelyn," Four says. "I chose Dauntless."

"Choices can be made again."

"What makes you think I'm interested in spending time anywhere _near_ you?" he demands. I hear his footsteps stop, and slow down so I can hear how she responds.

"Because I'm your mother," she says, and her voice almost breaks over the words, uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Because you're my son."

"You really don't get it," he says. "You don't have the vaguest conception of what you've done to me." He sounds breathless. "I don't want to join up with your little band of factionless. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible."

"My _little_ band of factionless is twice the size of Dauntless," says Evelyn. "You would do well to take it seriously. Its actions may determine the future of this city." With that, she walks ahead of him, and ahead of me. Her words echo in my mind: _Twice the size of Dauntless._ When did they become so large?

Ace looks at me, her face set in a scowl.

"How long have you known?" I say.

"Three and a half days before she died I heard she was going to do it." She slumps against the wall and closes her eyes. "She was talking to someone in the factionless."

"How long have _you _known?" Tris asks Four.

"About a year."

"Is that before, or after Ace knew?" I ask.

"After." They say in unison, and then give each other an irritated look.

"Why did she leave Abnegation?" my Erudite mind is curious.

"She had an affair." Four shakes his head. "And no wonder, since our father …" He shakes his head again. "Well, let's just say Marcus wasn't any nicer to her than he was to us."

"Is … that why you're angry with her?"

"No," he says too sternly, his eyes opening. "No, that's not why I'm angry."

He and Tris walk away.

"Why were you trembling?" I ask softly.

" I wasn't." she whispers back, and her lips are slightly parted as she breaths.

"Yes you were. If I didn't know any better I would say you're afraid." I know she is, but I want to try and get her to playful again.

"Then I would tell you, you should know better."

"Why, princess?" I whisper back. It's odd that we're whispering, but it feels natural.

"I'm angry. Very angry."

"How angry?"

"Angrier than you've ever seen me before."

"Now, that is angry."

"Yeah."

"So why are you angry? Because she was unfaithful to him?"

"No," she closes her eyes. "No, that's not why I'm angry." She mimics Four and I see the playfulness playing on her face. It's not the Dauntless glint I know and love, but it's close.

I walk toward her as if approaching a wild animal, each footstep careful on the cement floor. "Then why?"

"She had to leave my father, I get that," she says. "But did she think of taking us with her?"

I purse my lips. "Oh. She left you with _him_."

She left her alone with her worst nightmare. No wonder she hates her.

"Yeah." She kicks at the floor. "She did. She left the girl behind."

"The boy feels sorry for the girl."

"I'm sorry to. But Sorry isn't enough, it never has been." she says. I try to kiss her, but she turns her head, with her eyes closed.

My fingers find hers, fumbling, and she guides them into the spaces between her own. I know that's enough questions, for now, so I let the silence linger between us until she decides to break it. then, she guides my hands to her back, and she presses her hands to my chest. "Only once." I plead softly. She nods so I press her against me and we kiss. We kiss. We kiss. The words play over and over in my head, until they don't feel like words anymore. We stay there and kiss until Four stops us. I feel embarrassed, but she doesn't. she shouldn't, I'm _her_ boyfriend. From _her _faction. I make _her_ feel good. She makes me feel good too. Four's mouth is in a straight line and his jaw is clenched. When we stop kissing, he gives me the look. The look you give someone when they're dating you're daughter.

"It seems to me," he says, "that the factionless are better friends than enemies."

"Maybe. But what would the cost of that friendship be?" Tris says.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. But we may not have any other option." Victoria's hands are clasping mine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys. So, so, so fucking sorry this chapter took so bloody long. I actually thought I might finish it quickly, but as it turns out it took forever for me to sit my ass down and write some stuff. So my life has been HECTIC. **_**Hectic**_**. And, through this all, while my parents are having a divorce, Aniston and I are having a little divorce of our own. He doesn't like my new boyfriend much….and so to spite him, the next few chapters are decicated to my brilliant boyfriend. **

**To The Man in Pink who deals with my constant babbling and issues. :) Enjoy.**

**Enjoy the next few chapters, will update as soon as possible! I promise. Xxx.**

**Kisses, **

**Charlotte **

**Back to normal guys! Victoria / Ace/ Alexia's point of view. **

I drift off to sleep, carried by the sound of distant conversations. These days it's easier for me to fall asleep when there is noise around me. I can focus on the sound instead of whatever thoughts would crawl into my head in silence. Noise and activity are the refuges of the bereaved and the guilty. I wake when the fire is just a glow, and only a few of the factionless are still up. It takes me a few seconds to figure out why I woke up: I heard Evelyn's and Four's voices, a few feet away from me. I stay still and hope they don't discover that I'm awake. Evelyn will treat me like a child, and Four will defend me like I am one. Eric's lying next to me. I know he's awake because of his breathing pattern, it isn't slow and calm like it should be; its brisk and fresh. I try to keep my breathing steady, trying to hide that I'm awake.

"You'll have to tell me what's going on here if you expect me to consider helping you," he says. "Though I'm still not sure why you need me at all."

I see Evelyn's shadow on the wall, flickering with the fire. She is lean and strong, just like Four. Her fingers twist into her hair as she speaks.

"What would you like to know, exactly?"

"Tell me about the chart. And the map."

"Your friend was correct in thinking that the map and the chart listed all of our safe houses," she says. "He was wrong about the population counts … sort of. The numbers don't document all the factionless—only certain ones. And I'll bet you can guess which ones those are."

"I'm not in the mood for guessing."

She sighs. "The Divergent. We're documenting the Divergent."

"How do you know who they are?"

"Before the simulation attack, part of the Abnegation aid effort involved testing the factionless for a certain genetic anomaly," she says. "Sometimes that testing involved re-administering the aptitude test. Sometimes it was more complicated than that. But they explained to us that they suspected we might have the highest Divergent population of any group in the city."

"I don't understand. Why—"

"Why would the factionless have a high Divergent population?" It sounds like she's smirking. "Obviously those who can't confine themselves to a particular way of thinking would be most likely to leave a faction or fail its initiation, right?"

"That's not what I was going to ask," he says. "I want to know why _you_ care how many Divergent there are."

"The Erudite are looking for manpower. They found it temporarily in Dauntless. Now they'll be looking for more, and we're the obvious place, unless they figure out that we've got more Divergent than any other group. Just in case they don't, I want to know how many people we've got who are resistant to simulations."

"Fair enough," he says, "but why were the Abnegation so concerned with finding the Divergent? It wasn't to help Jeanine, was it?"

"Of course not," she says. "But I'm afraid I don't know. The Abnegation were reluctant to provide information that only serves to relieve curiosity. They told us as much as they believed we should know."

"Strange," he mumbles.

"Perhaps you should ask your father about it," she says. "He was the one who told me about you."

"About me," says Four. "What about me?"

"That he suspected you were Divergent," she says. "He was always watching you. Noting your behavior. He was very attentive to you. That's why … that's why I thought you would be safe with him. Safer with him than with me. he watched your sister too. noting her, he always knew she would choose Dauntless; if she had the choice. But didn't we all?" I wait for his answer, I forget to breath and I feel Eric smoothing down my hair. They knew I was going to choose Dauntless? "It was obvious, from a young age she was a little thrill-seeker."

Four says nothing. I don't think that's true.

"that's why I left the 2 of you, so you would be safe. I see now that I must have been wrong."

He still says nothing.

"I wish—" she starts.

"Don't you dare try to apologize." His voice shakes. "I'm sure I speak for Vicky too when I say that this is not something you can bandage with a word or two and some hugging, or something." He's right.

"Okay," she says. "Okay. I won't."

"For what purpose are the factionless uniting?" he says. "What do you intend to do?"

"We want to usurp Erudite," she says. "Once we get rid of them, there's not much stopping us from controlling the government ourselves."

"That's what you expect me to help you with. Overthrowing one corrupt government and instating some kind of factionless tyranny." He snorts. "Not a chance."

"We don't want to be tyrants," she says. "We want to establish a new society. One without factions." My mouth goes dry. No factions? A world in which no one knows who they are or where they fit? I can't even fathom it. I imagine only chaos and isolation. Nobody would know what was going on. How would I know who I am? What my name is? I wont survive.

Four lets out a laugh. "Right. So how are you going to usurp Erudite?"

"Sometimes drastic change requires drastic measures." Evelyn's shadow lifts a shoulder. "I imagine it will involve a high level of destruction."

I shiver at the word "destruction." Somewhere in the darker parts of me, I crave destruction, as long as it is Erudite being destroyed. Who am I kidding? As long as it's not the Dauntless being destroyed, I'm fine with it. I want to be a part of it. But the word carries new meaning for me, now that I have seen what it can look like: grey-clothed bodies slung across curbs and over sidewalks, Abnegation leaders shot on their front lawns, next to their mailboxes. I press my face into the pallet I'm sleeping on, so hard it hurts my forehead, just to force the memory out, out, _out_.

"As for why we need you," Evelyn says. "In order to do this, we will need Dauntless's help. They have the weapons and the combat experience. You could bridge the gap between us and them."

"Do you think I'm important to the Dauntless? Because I'm not. I'm just someone who isn't afraid of much." He is important, to most of us.

"What I am suggesting," she says, "is that you _become_ important." She stands, her shadow stretching from ceiling to floor. "I am sure you can find a way, if you want to. Think about it."

She pulls back her curly hair and ties it in a knot. "The door is always open." A few minutes later he lies next to Tris again. I don't want to admit that I was eavesdropping, but I want to tell him I don't trust Evelyn, or the factionless, or anyone who speaks so casually about demolishing an entire faction. Although, I would enjoy it. "It's all going to be alright, don't worry. After all this, we can move back home, back to the compound. We can buy you some pain-killers for your hip. We can get married, and have a family. It's all going to be alright, just you wait." Eric whispers to me and I nod, even though I know it'll never be like that; I wish it would though.


	8. Chapter 8

**Short, I know. I'm sorry.**

**Fist-bumps,**

**Aniston.**

ERIC SHAKES ME AWAKE. I run hand over the back of my neck to lift the hair that sticks there. My entire body aches, especially my legs, which burn with lactic acid even when I am not moving. And I don't smell very good. I need to shower.

"C'mon, we need to get moving." He whispers and I look around. I listen as hard as I can, trying to detect anyone else awake, but it's just Eric and I. I squint at him, and then look back out into the night. It looks as though the sun will be coming up soon. I close my eyes tightly, trying to remember the dream I was having. Deciding it's useless, I open my eyes and look at him. He's fully dressed in his Dauntless clothes. I frown. Those aren't the same clothes he wore yesterday. He had extra clothes. He holds his hand out for me, and I grab hold of it, letting him help me stand. I look at him, wondering if this is a dream. "Look, you and I are going to the Erudite compound." My breath hitches in my throat and I let go of his hand instantly. How can he possibly expect me to go there? "We're going to infiltrate them, from the inside. I've come back to fetch you. I'm going to say I was looking for some Divergent and then I found you, I'm going back there to pretend we're helping them" he pauses, as though deciding the right words. "And so are you." He says it sternly, as if I had no choice. I open mouth to protest, I'm not leaving here. "Go shower." He commands. I shake my head, "Absolutely not." I shout-whisper. "If you like you can go, but I'm staying." I say and cross my arms. He looks at the sun and then, turns and walks away. My stomach drops. But I knew, deep inside, that he was going to do that. Later that day we leave for the Candor compound.


	9. Chapter 9

**Maybe the length of this one makes up for the last one? Please, rate and review. It encourages Charlotte to write faster.**

**Fist-bumps,**

**Aniston**

THEY SURROUND US, don't handcuff us, and walk us to the elevator bank. No matter how many times I ask why we are under arrest, no one says anything or even looks in my direction. Eventually I give up and stay silent, like Four. We go to the third level, where they take us to a small room with a white marble floor instead of a black one. There's no furniture except for a bench along the back wall. Every faction is supposed to have holding rooms for those who make trouble, but I've never been in one before. The door closes behind us, and locks, and we're alone again.

Four sits down on the bench, his brow furrowed. Tris paces back and forth in front of him. My fingers tap softly on my knee and I think about Eric. If they had any idea why we were in here, they would tell me, so I don't ask. Tris walks five steps forward and five steps back, five steps forward and five steps back, I tap at the same rhythm, hoping it will help me figure something out.

If Erudite didn't take over Candor—and Edward told us they didn't—why would the Candor arrest us? What could we have done to them? If Erudite _didn't_ take over, the only real crime left is siding with them. Did I do anything that could have been interpreted as siding with Erudite? My teeth dig into my lower lip so hard I wince. Yes, Eric did.

"Can you please calm down?" Four says. "You're making me nervous."

"This is me calming down." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stares between his sneakers.

"The wound in your lip begs to differ."

I press my forehead into my knees.

"Sometimes," Four says, looking at Tris "I worry that you don't trust me."

"I trust you," Tris says. "Of course I trust you. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Just seems like there's something you're not telling me. I told _you_ things …." He shakes his head. "I would never have told anyone else. Something's been going on with you, though, and you haven't told me yet."

"There's been a lot going on. You know that," she says. "And anyway, what about you? I could say the same thing to you."

"If it's just about your parents," he says softly, "tell me and I'll believe you." His eyes should be wild with apprehension, given where we are, but they are still and dark. They transport me to familiar places. The cupboard upstairs, the roof I jumped from. The chair in my room.

She covers his hand with hers. "That's all it is," I can tell it's a lie.

"Okay," he says. Four looks at me. I look at him, squint my eyes and move to the other side of the room, where I sit on the floor.

The door opens. A few people file in—two Candor with guns; a dark-skinned, older Candor man; a Dauntless woman I don't recognize. And then: Jack Kang, representative of Candor. By most faction standards, he is a young leader—only thirty-nine years old. But by Dauntless standards, that's nothing. Eric became a Dauntless leader at seventeen. But that's probably one of the reasons the other factions don't take our opinions or decisions seriously. Jack is handsome, too, with short black hair and warm, slanted eyes, like Tori's, and high cheekbones. Despite his good looks, he isn't known for being charming, probably because he's Candor, and they see charm as deceptive. I do trust him to tell us what's going on without wasting time on pleasantries. That is something.

"They told me you seemed confused about why you were arrested," he says. His voice is deep, but strangely flat, like it could not create an echo even at the bottom of an empty cavern. "To me that means either you're falsely accused or good at pretending. The only—"

"What are we accused of?" Tris interrupts him.

"_He_ is accused of crimes against humanity. _You_ are accused of being his accomplice." He points to them, " And_ she_ is accused of….well she isn't accused." He points to me. they look at me in surprise, out of the three of us, I'm most likely supposed to be in trouble, but them? nah.

"Crimes against humanity?" Four finally sounds angry. He gives Jack a disgusted look.

"We saw video footage of the attack. You were _running_ the attack simulation," says Jack.

"How could you have seen footage? We took the data," says Four.

"You took one copy of the data. All the footage of the Dauntless compound recorded during the attack was also sent to other computers throughout the city," says Jack. "All we saw was you running the simulation and _her_ nearly getting punched to death before she gave up. Then you stopped, had a rather abrupt lovers' reconciliation, and stole the hard drive together. One possible reason is because the simulation was over and you didn't want us to get our hands on it."

"The simulation didn't end," Tris says. "We _stopped_ it, you—"

Jack holds up his hand. "I am not interested in what you have to say right now. The truth will come out when you are both interrogated under the influence of truth serum." Christina told me about truth serum once. She said the most difficult part of Candor initiation was being given truth serum and answering personal questions in front of everyone in the faction. I don't need to search myself for my deepest, darkest secrets to know that truth serum is the last thing I want in my body.

"Truth serum?" I shake my head. "No. No way."

"There's something you have to hide?" Jack says, lifting both eyebrows.

I want to tell him that anyone with an ounce of dignity wants to keep some things to herself, but I don't want to arouse his suspicions. So I shake my head.

"All right, then." He checks his watch. "It is now noon. The interrogation will be at seven. Don't bother preparing for it. You can't withhold information while under the influence of truth serum."

He turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

"What a pleasant man," says Four.

And I agree.

A group of armed Dauntless escort me to the bathroom in the early afternoon. I take my time, letting my hands turn red in the hot-faucet water and staring at my reflection. When I was in Abnegation and wasn't allowed to look into mirrors, I used to think that a lot could change in a person's appearance in three months. Then I moved to Dauntless. I changed while I was at dauntless. But if that was a lot, I am a whole new person. I look weaker, skinnier, I can see my ribs. I have dark rings under my eyes and a few scars on my face. I look older. Maybe it's the short hair or maybe it's just that I wear all that has happened like a mask. I turn away from the mirror and shove the door to the hallway open with the heels of my hands.

When the Dauntless drop me off at the holding room, I linger by the door. Four looks like he did when I first met him—black T-shirt, short hair, stern expression. The sight of him used to fill me with nervous excitement. I remember the first kiss, the talks we had. "Hungry?" he says. He offers me a sandwich from the plate next to him. I'm not hungry, but then I think of my ribs.

I take it and sit down. We eat until the food is gone. We sit until we get uncomfortable. Then I lie in the corner of the room, crying. Eventually we're all lying on the floor, staring at the roof.

"What are you afraid of saying?" Four asks.

"Any of it. All of it. I don't want to relive anything." Tris answers.

"I'm afraid they'll ask about my desire for death." I say, only loud enough for him to hear. He nods. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. There's no clock in the room, so I can't count down the minutes until the interrogation. Time might as well not exist in this place, except I feel it pressing against me as seven o'clock inevitably draws closer, pushing me into the floor tiles. I must fall asleep eventually, because I jerk awake at the sound of the door opening. A few Dauntless walk in as we get to our feet, and one of them says my name. Christina shoves her way past the others and throws her arms around Tris. Her fingers dig into the wound in her shoulder, and she cries out.

"Got shot," she says. "Shoulder. Ow."

"Oh God!" She releases . "Sorry, Tris."

She doesn't look like the Christina I remember. Her hair is shorter, like a boy's, and her skin is greyish instead of a warm brown. She smiles at me, but the smile doesn't travel to her eyes, which still look tired. I try to smile back, but I'm too nervous. Christina will be there at my interrogation. She'll know everything I want to hide. Unless I fight the serum, swallow the truth—if I can.

"You okay? I heard you were here so I asked to escort you," she says as we leave the holding room. "I know you didn't do it. You're not a traitor."

"I'm fine," Tris says. "And thank you. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm …" Her voice trails off, and she bites her lip. "Did anyone tell you … I mean, maybe now isn't the time, but …"

"What? What is it?"

"Um … Will died in the attack," she says.

She gives me a worried look, and an expectant one. Expecting what? I let out a quick, "Oh." I feel suddenly sick. I miss him already. I can feel my stomach churn. I picture him dead. Lying in his bed, the way he did during initiation. I remember his hair. His eyes. His smell. I taste bile in my throat and feel tears sting the back of my eyes. No, I scold myself, we do dangerous things. we do dangerous things and people die. Then we move on to more dangerous things.

"I know," Tris says. "I saw him on the monitors when I was in the control room. I'm sorry, Christina." She's lying, I can hear it.

"Oh." She nods. "Well, I'm … glad you already knew. I really didn't want to break the news to you in a hallway." A short laugh. A flash of a smile. Neither of them like they used to be. We file into an elevator.

"Don't worry about the truth serum," she says. "It's easy. You barely know what's happening when you're under. It's only when you resurface that you even know what you said. I went under when I was a kid. It's pretty commonplace in Candor." The other Dauntless in the elevator give each other looks. In normal circumstances, someone would probably reprimand her for discussing her old faction, but these are not normal circumstances. At no other time in Christina's life will she escort her best friend, now a suspected traitor, to a public interrogation.

"Is everyone else all right?" Tris says. "Uriah, Lynn, Marlene?" and I feel a pinch in my gut, I didn't think about them.

"All here," she says. "Except Uriah's brother, Zeke, who is with the other Dauntless."

"What?" Zeke, who secured my straps on the zip line, a traitor? The elevator stops on the top floor, and the others file out.

"I know," she says. "No one saw it coming."

She takes my arm and tugs me toward the doors. We walk down a black-marble hallway—it must be easy to get lost in Candor headquarters, since everything looks the same. We walk down another hallway and through a set of double doors. From the outside, the Merciless Mart is a squat block with a narrow raised portion in its centre. From the inside, that raised portion is a hollow three-story room with empty spaces in the walls instead of windows. I see the darkening sky above me, starless. Here the marble floors are white, with a black Candor symbol in the centre of the room, and the walls are lit with rows of dim yellow lights, so the whole room glows. Every voice echoes. Most of Candor and the remnants of Dauntless are already gathered. Some of them sit on the tiered benches that wrap around the edge of the room, but there isn't enough space for everyone, so the rest are crowded around the Candor symbol. In the centre of the symbol, between the unbalanced scales, are four empty chairs. I spot Uriah, and give him a grin. He smiles back. Both of our smiles are fake, we both know that, but we do it anyway. Four grabs Tris's hand. Our Dauntless guards lead us to the centre of the room, where we are greeted with, at best, murmurs, and at worst, jeers. I spot Jack Kang in the front row of the tiered benches. An old, dark-skinned man steps forward, a black box in his hands. "My name is Niles," he says. "I will be your questioner. You—" He points at Four. "You will be going first. So if you will please step forward …"

Four squeezes her hand, and then releases it, and I stand with Christina at the edge of the Candor symbol. The air in the room is warm—moist, summer air, sunset air—but I feel cold. I sit in a chair on the left. Niles opens the black box. It contains Three needles, one for Four, one for Tris and one for me. He also takes an antiseptic wipe from his pocket and offers it to Four. We didn't bother with that kind of thing in Dauntless. "The injection site is in your neck," Niles says. All I hear, as Four applies antiseptic to his skin, is the wind. Niles steps forward and plunges the needle into Four's neck, squeezing the cloudy, bluish liquid into his veins. The last time I was injected was at the end of the fear landscape. Oh how I miss it, it's fears seem like nothing compared to my life now.

I shudder as I think of the children. _My_ children. _Our_ children. I was afraid Eric would leave, and he did; twice.


	10. Chapter 10

"I WILL ASK you a series of simple questions so that you can grow accustomed to the serum as it takes full effect," says Niles. "Now. What is your name?" Four sits with slouched shoulders and a lowered head, like his body is too heavy for him. He scowls and squirms in the chair, and through gritted teeth says, "Four." Maybe it isn't possible to lie under the truth serum, but to select which version of the truth to tell: Four is his name, but it is not his name.

"That is a nickname," Niles says. "What is your real name?"

"Tobias," he says.

Christina elbows Tris. "Did you know that?"

She nods.

"What are the names of your parents, Tobias?"

Four opens his mouth to answer, and then clenches his jaw as if to stop the words from spilling out.

"Why is this relevant?" Four asks.

The Candor around me mutter to each other, some of them scowling. I raise my eyebrow at Christina.

"It's extremely difficult not to immediately answer questions while under the truth serum," she says. "It means he has a seriously strong will. And something to hide."

"Maybe it wasn't relevant before, Four," Niles says, "but it is now that you've resisted answering the question. The names of your parents, please."

Four closes his eyes. "Evelyn and Marcus Eaton."

Surnames are just an additional means of identification, useful only to prevent confusion in official records. When we marry, one spouse has to take the other's surname, or both have to take a new one. Still, while we may carry our names from family to faction, we rarely mention them. But everyone recognizes our surname. I can tell by the clamour that rises in the room after Four speaks. The Candor all know Marcus is the most influential government official, and some of them must have read the article Jeanine released about his cruelty toward his son. It was one of the only things she said that was true. And now everyone knows that Four is that son.

Tobias Eaton is a powerful name.

Mine? Not so much.

Niles waits for silence, then continues. "So you are a faction transfer, are you not?"

"Yes."

"You transferred from Abnegation to Dauntless?"

"_Yes,"_ snaps Four. "Isn't that obvious?"

I bite my lip. He should calm down; he is giving away too much. The more reluctant he is to answer a question, the more determined Niles will be to hear the answer.

"One of the purposes of this interrogation is to determine your loyalties," says Niles, "so I must ask: Why did you transfer?"

Four glares at Niles, and keeps his mouth shut. Seconds pass in complete silence. The longer he tries to resist the serum, the harder it seems to be for him: colour fills his cheeks, and he breathes faster, heavier. My chest aches for him. The details of his childhood should stay inside him, if that's where he wants them to be. Candor is cruel for forcing them from him, for taking away his freedom.

"This is horrible," I say hotly to Christina. "Wrong."

"What?" she says. "It's a simple question."

Tris shakes her head. "You don't understand."

Christina smiles a little. "You really care about him."

I am too busy watching Four to respond. Niles says, "I'll ask again. It is important that we understand the extent of your loyalty to your chosen faction. So why did you transfer to Dauntless, Four?"

"To protect myself," says Four. "I transferred to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?"

"From my father."

All the conversations in the room stop, and the silence they leave in their wake is worse than the muttering was. I expect Niles to keep probing, but he doesn't.

"Thank you for your honesty," Niles says. The Candor repeat the phrase under their breath. All around me are the words "Thank you for your honesty" at different volumes and pitches, and my anger begins to dissolve. The whispered words seem to welcome Four, to embrace and then discard his darkest secret. It's not cruelty, maybe, but a desire to understand, that motivates them. That doesn't make me any less afraid of going under truth serum.

"Is your allegiance with your current faction, Four?" Niles says.

"My allegiance lies with anyone who does not support the attack on Abnegation," he says.

"Speaking of which," Niles says, "I think we should focus on what happened that day. What do you remember about being under the simulation?"

"I was not under the simulation, at first," says Four. "It didn't work."

Niles laughs a little. "What do you mean, it didn't _work_?"

"One of the defining characteristics of the Divergent is that their minds are resistant to simulations," says Four. "And I am Divergent. So no, it didn't work." More mutters. Christina nudges Tris with her elbow.

"Are you too?" she says, close to my ear so she can stay quiet. "Is that why you were awake?" I look at her. she nods.

It's like her eyes swell to fill their sockets; that's how big they get. I have trouble identifying her expression. Is it shock? Fear?

Awe?

"Do you know what it means?" I say.

"I heard about it when I was young," she says in a reverent whisper.

Definitely awe.

"Like it was a fantasy story," she says. "'There are people with special powers among us!' Like that."

"Well, it's not a fantasy, and it's not that big a deal," I say. "It's like the fear landscape simulation—you were aware while you were in it, and you could manipulate it. Except for me, it's like that in every simulation."

"But," she says, setting her hand on my elbow. "That's _impossible_."

In the centre of the room, Niles has his hands up and is trying to silence the crowd, but there are too many whispers—some hostile, some terrified, and some awed, like Christina's. Finally Niles stands and yells, "If you don't quiet down, you will be asked to leave!"

At last everyone quiets down. Niles sits.

"Now," he says. "When you say 'resistant to simulations,' what do you mean?"

"Usually, it means we're aware during simulations," says Four. He seems to have an easier time with the truth serum when he answers factual questions instead of emotional ones. He doesn't sound like he's under the truth serum at all now, though his slumped posture and wandering eyes indicate otherwise. "But the attack simulation was different, using a different kind of simulation serum, one with long-range transmitters. Evidently the long-range transmitters didn't work on the Divergent at all, because I awoke in my own mind that morning."

"You say you weren't under the simulation _at first_. Can you explain what you mean by that?"

"I mean that I was discovered and brought to Jeanine, and she injected a version of the simulation serum that specifically targeted the Divergent. I was aware during _that_ simulation, but it didn't do much good."

"The video footage from the Dauntless headquarters shows you _running_ the simulation," Niles says darkly. "How, exactly, do you explain that?"

"When a simulation is running, your eyes still see and process the actual world, but your brain no longer comprehends them. On some level, though, your brain still knows what you're seeing and where you are. The nature of this new simulation was that it recorded my emotional responses to outside stimuli," Four says, closing his eyes for a few seconds, "and responded by altering the appearance of that stimuli. The simulation made my enemies into friends, my friends into enemies. I thought I was shutting the simulation down. Really I was receiving instructions about how to keep it running."

Christina nods along to his words. I feel calmer when I see that most of the crowd is doing the same thing. This is the benefit of the truth serum, I realize. Four's testimony is irrefutable this way.

"We have seen footage of what ultimately happened to you in the control room," says Niles, "but it is confusing. Please describe it to us."

"Someone entered the room, and I thought it was a Dauntless soldier, trying to stop me from destroying the simulation. I was fighting her, and …" Four scowls, struggling. "… and then she stopped, and I got confused. Even if I had been awake, I would have been confused. Why would she surrender? Why didn't she just kill me?"

His eyes search the crowd until they find Tris's face.

"I still don't understand," he says softly, "how she knew that it would work." Lives in my fingertips.

"I think my conflicted emotions confused the simulation," he says. "And then I heard her voice. Somehow, that enabled me to fight the simulation." I'm starting to understand what happened.

"I recognized her, finally," he says. "We went back into the control room and stopped the simulation."

"What is the name of this person?"

"Tris," he says. "Beatrice Prior, I mean."

"Did you know her before this happened?"

"Yes."

"How did you know her?"

"I was her instructor," he says. "Now we're together."

"I have a final question," Niles says. "Among the Candor, before a person is accepted into our community, they have to completely expose themselves. Given the dire circumstances we are in, we require the same of you. So, Four Eaton: what are your deepest regrets?"

I look him over, from his beat-up sneakers to his long fingers to his straight eyebrows.

"I regret …" Four tilts his head, and sighs. "I regret my choice."

_**OH.**_

"What choice?"

_**MY.**_

"Dauntless," he says.

_**FUCKING.**_

"I was born for Abnegation. I was planning on leaving Dauntless, and becoming factionless. But then I met _her_, and … I felt like maybe I could make something more of my decision."

_**GOD.**_

For a moment, it's like I'm looking at a different person, sitting in Four's skin, one whose life is not as simple as I thought. He wanted to leave Dauntless, but he stayed because of her.

"Choosing Dauntless in order to escape my father was an act of cowardice," he says. "I regret that cowardice. It means I am not worthy of my faction. I will always regret it."

I expect the Dauntless to let out indignant shouts, maybe to charge the chair and beat him to a pulp. They are capable of far more erratic things than that. But they don't. They stand in stony silence, with stony faces, staring at the young man who did not betray them, but never truly felt that he belonged to them. For a moment we are all silent. I don't know who starts the whisper; it seems to originate from nothing, to come from no one. But someone whispers, "Thank you for your honesty," and the rest of the room repeats it.

"Thank you for your honesty," they whisper.

I don't join in. I'm too surprised to.

Niles stands in the center of the room with a needle in hand. The lights above him make it shine. All around me, the Dauntless and the Candor wait for me to step forward and spill my entire life before them.

The thought occurs to me again: _Maybe I can fight the serum._ But I don't know if I should try. It might be better for the people I love if I come clean. I walk stiffly to the centre of the room as Four leaves it. As we pass each other, he takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. Then he's gone, and it's just me and Niles and the needle. I wipe the side of my neck with the antiseptic, but when he reaches out with the needle, I pull back.

"I would rather do it myself." I don't need him.

"Do you know how?" he says, raising a bushy eyebrow.

"Yes."

Niles offers me the syringe. I position it over the vein in my neck, insert the needle, and press the plunger. I barely feel the pinch. I am too charged with adrenaline. Someone comes forward with a trash can, and I toss the needle in. I feel the effects of the serum immediately afterward. It makes my blood feel like lead in my veins. I almost collapse on my way to the chair—Niles has to grab my arm and guide me toward it. Seconds later my brain goes silent. _What was I thinking about_? It doesn't seem to matter. Nothing matters except the chair beneath me and the man sitting across from me.

"What is your name?"

I clench my jaws. "I don't have one."

"What is your birth name?"

"Victoria."

"Why did you introduce yourself as Ace?"

"That was my Dauntless name."

"And now it's not your name?"

"correct."

"Explain."

"I'm not Dauntless; I'm not Ace either."

"What are the names of your parents?" I can't answer this. I wont. I refuse to answer anything related to-

"Marcus and Evelyn Eaton." The room erupts in whispers.

"And you are a faction transfer?"

"Yes. From Abnegation to Dauntless."

"Why did you transfer?"

"I belonged there. To get away from Marcus. And because of Four."

"You belonged there?"

"I was always a thrill-seeker."

"And why did you want to get away from Marcus?"

"He was abusive."

"How abusive?"

"He locked me in a room since my mother left and only let me out to punish me." I say it quickly, trying to dull the pain it will cause to hear the words come from my own voice. Murmurs.

"Four?"

"I thought I would be safer if he was there."

"Thank you for your honesty." My comment explodes from my mouth before I can think it.

"You're bloody welcome."

"Do you remember what happened the day of the simulation?"

"I got up, Tris, Uriah and Four were awake. Eric separated me from the crowd. He pretended to kill me, I ran and found Tris. I stayed in the safe house until they attacked, then I ran away and found them on a train."

"Why did you stay at the safe house?"

"I knew they were going to attack. I wanted to go with Tris, but they argued, said I was injured to badly."

"You were injured?"

"Not really. it was just a scratch."

"Just a scratch?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"My hip."

"Show us." As I showed my hip there were screams of terror and I looked down to my wound. It's not that bad.

"But you wanted to go?"

"Yes. Indeed."

"There are reports saying you were suicidal. Were you?" I bite my lip, because if I answer I know the follow up question.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes. Why? Are you withholding information?"

"yes." I say it purposefully.

"Why were you suicidal?"

"There was no reason to live, not after Eric left." It leaves my mouth before I can take note of it.

"I take it you knew Eric?" I scowl.

"Of course."

"What is your connection?"

"Acquaintances."

"So, why was there no reason to live?"

"Because, back then," it seems so long ago, "He was my boyfriend, my everything."

"and now?"

"Now we are acquaintances. I thought I was in love, but love is a weakness." Murmurs amongst the crowd.

"Why would you say that?"

"It makes you vulnerable, very vulnerable."

"and now, for the last question. Among the Candor, before a person is accepted into our community, they have to completely expose themselves. Given the dire circumstances we are in, we require the same of you. So, Victoria Eaton: what are your deepest regrets?" I don't have any but my tongue wants to say something, so I bite it to keep it inside.

"letting my father live after I has so many opportunities to kill him." And then I know what I'm going to say so I keep my mouth closed. As a Dauntless I shouldn't have regrets. This is wrong. "Moving away from the building after Eric told me to say." It pops out of my mouth. Murmurs.

"thank you for your honesty. Where do your loyalties lie?"

"With whomever it is that is against the simulation."

"What is your name?" he says.

The second he asks the question, the answer pops out of her mouth. "Beatrice Prior."

"But you go by Tris?"

"I do."

"What are the names of your parents, Tris?"

"Andrew and Natalie Prior."

"You are also a faction transfer, are you not?"

"Yes,"

"You came from Abnegation? And chose Dauntless?"

"Yes," the word sounds terse. I don't know why, exactly.

"Why did you transfer?

"I wasn't good enough for Abnegation and I wanted to be free. So I chose Dauntless."

"Why weren't you good enough?"

"Because I was selfish,"

"You _were_ selfish? You aren't anymore?"

"Of course I am. My mother said that everyone is selfish," she says, "but I became less selfish in Dauntless. I discovered there were people I would fight for. Die for, even." If she says it here, it's true. Is she talking about Four? That thought gives me the missing link in the chain of thought I was trying to find. Lie-detector test. Truth serum. I have to remind myself. It is too easy to get lost in honesty.

"Tris, would you please tell us what happened the day of the attack?"

"I woke up," she says, "and everyone was under the simulation. So I played along until I found Four."

"What happened after you and Four were separated?"

"Jeanine tried to have me killed, but my mother saved me. She used to be Dauntless, so she knew how to use a gun." My body feels even heavier now, but no longer cold. I feel something stir in my chest, she's about to tell something deep, I can feel it.

"She distracted the Dauntless soldiers so I could get away, and they killed her," _and?_ I ask silently in my head

"I kept running," She says, "And …" _it's coming. _

"And I found my brother and father," her voice strained. "We formed a plan to destroy the simulation." She pauses, she just held something back.

"We infiltrated the Dauntless compound, and my father and I went up to the control room. He fought off Dauntless soldiers at the expense of his life," she says. "I made it to the control room, and Four was there."

"Four said you fought him, but then stopped. Why did you do that?"

"Because I realized that one of us would have to kill the other," she says, "and I didn't want to kill him."

"You gave up?"

"No!" I shake my head. "No, not exactly. I remembered something I had done in my fear landscape in Dauntless initiation … in a simulation, a woman demanded that I kill my family, and I let her shoot me instead. It worked then. I thought …" I pinch the bridge of my nose. My head is starting to Ache. "I was so frantic, but all I could think was that there was something to it; there was a strength in it. And I couldn't kill him, so I had to try."

"So you were never under the simulation?"

"No. No," she says. "No, I am Divergent."

"Just to clarify," says Niles. "Are you telling me that you were almost murdered by the Erudite … and then fought your way into the Dauntless compound … and destroyed the simulation?"

"Yes," I say.

"I think I speak for everyone," he says, "when I say that you have earned the title of Dauntless." Shouts rise up from the left side of the room, and I see blurs of fists pressing into the dark air. I join in.

But no, they're wrong, she's not brave, she did something and can't admit it, she can't even admit it….

"Beatrice Prior," says Niles, "what are your deepest regrets?"

"I regret …"

My eyes leave Niles's face and drift over the room, and land on Four. He is expressionless, his mouth in a firm line, his stare blank. His hands, crossed over his chest, clasp his arms so hard his knuckles are white. Next to him stands Christina. Eric is looking away, obviously he's thinking about a way to withhold information, like why he left me.

"Will," she says. It sounds like a gasp, like it was pulled straight from her stomach. Now there is no turning back.

"I shot Will," she says, "while he was under the simulation. I killed him. He was going to kill me, but I killed him. My friend."

"I knew it!" I shouted in the silence, and clamped my hand over my mouth. I didn't even think that, it just came out. Will, with the crease between his eyebrows, with green eyes like celery and the ability to quote the Dauntless manifesto from memory. I feel pain in my stomach so intense that I almost groan. It hurts to remember him. It hurts every part of me. And there is something else, something worse that she didn't realize. She was willing to die rather than kill Four, but the thought never occurred to her when it came to Will. she decided to kill Will in a fraction of a second. I run out.

"thank you for your honesty."


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours later, after I've eaten lunch and taken a nap, I sit down on the edge of my bed to change the bandage on my hip. I take off my T-shirt, leaving my tank top on—there are a lot of Dauntless around, gathering between the bunks, laughing at one another's jokes. I have just finished applying more healing salve when I hear a shriek of laughter. Uriah charges down the aisle between the bunks with Marlene thrown over his shoulder. She waves at me as they pass, her face red.

Lynn, who is sitting on the next bunk, snorts. "I don't see how he can be _flirty_, with everything that's going on."

"He's supposed to shuffle around, scowling all the time?" Tris says, "Maybe you can learn something from him." She adds.

"You're one to talk," she says. "You're always moping. We should start calling you Beatrice Prior, Queen of Tragedy."

Tris stands and punches Lynn's arm, harder than if she was kidding, softer than if she was serious. "Shut up."

She looks at me with cheek and says. "I don't take orders from Stiffs."

I notice a slight curl in her lip and suppress a grin myself.

"Ready to go?" Lynn says.

"Where are you going?" Four says, slipping between his bunk and mine to stand in the aisle with us.

"Top of the Hancock building to spy on Erudite," Lynn says. "Want to come?"

Four gives me a look. "No, I've got a few things to take care of here. But be careful." I nod. I know why he doesn't want to come—Four tries to avoid heights, if at all possible. He touches Tris's arm, holding her back for just a moment. I lace my new shoes.

"I'll see you later," he mutters. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence," she says, frowning.

"I didn't mean that," he says. "I meant don't let anyone else do anything stupid. They'll listen to you." I hear myself snort.

He leans toward her like he's going to kiss her, then seems to think better of it and leans back, biting his lip. It's a small act, but it still looks like rejection. She runs after Lynn.

"Are you going with?" He asks me.

"either that or look for more windows to jump from." It's supposed to be a joke, but it sounds serious.

"I'll help you look."

"Why? You thinking of joining me?"

"No, but if you go missing, I know where you've gone."

"You nose."

"What?"

"Nose…..nose, as in Erudite."

"Oh. That wasn't very nice of you, Vicky."

"Did you just call me Vicky?"

"Sorry, old habbit." He says and I laugh.

"hey, it's good to hear my old name again." I say and he laughs too. this feels fake. We both know it is…

Four knows more about this than I do, so I ask him about when we walk down the corridor.

Four and I walk down the hallway toward the elevator bank. Some of the Dauntless have started to mark the walls with coloured squares. Candor headquarters is like a maze to them, and they want to learn to navigate it. I know only how to get to the most basic places: the sleeping area, the cafeteria, the lobby, the interrogation room.

"Why did everyone leave Dauntless headquarters?" I say. "The traitors aren't there, are they?"

"No, they're at Erudite headquarters. We left because Dauntless headquarters has the most surveillance cameras of any area in the city," He says. "We knew the Erudite could probably access all the footage, and that it would take forever to find all the cameras, so we thought it was best to just leave."

"Smart."

"We have our moments."

Four jabs his finger into the button for the first floor. I stare at our reflections in the doors. He's taller than I am, the way a man is. We look a lot alike, especially with the scowls that are drawn on our faces with permanent marker, so to speak. My eyes are a lighter blue than his. He finally wears Dauntless clothes again, that show off his muscles.

"What?" he says, scowling at me.

"Look at us." I say, mimicking his scowl. We both smile as he looks at how alike we look.

"Why did you shave your head?" He asks me.

I slip out of the elevator before I say something I'll regret. Four is quick to forgive, but quick to ignite, like most Dauntless. Like me, except for the "quick to forgive" part.

As usual, a few Dauntless with large guns cross back and forth in front of the doors, watching for intruders. Just in front of them stands a small group of younger Dauntless, including Uriah; Marlene; Lynn's sister, Shauna; and Lauren, who taught the Dauntless-born initiates as Four taught the faction transfers during initiation. Her ear gleams when she moves her head—it is pierced from top to bottom. Tris and Lynn stand among them.

We stop short and listen to the conversation without making ourselves known.

"Oh God, Mom's gotten to you, too, hasn't she." Lynn covers her face with one hand. "Shauna—"

"Lynn. Keep your mouth shut for once," says Shauna, her eyes still on Tris. She seems tense, like she thinks Tris might attack her at any moment. With her special brainpowers.

"Oh!" says Uriah, rescuing her. "Tris, do you know Lauren?"

"Yeah," Lauren says, before she can answer. Her voice is sharp and clear, like she's scolding him, except it seems to be the way she naturally sounds. "She went through my fear landscape for practice during initiation. So she knows me better than she should, probably."

"Really? I thought the transfers would go through Four's landscape," says Uriah.

"Like he would let anyone do that," she says, snorting.

Tris's face becomes soft.

I see a flicker of blue over Lauren's shoulder, and peer around her to get a better look. Tobias turns, shielding my body and throwing me with him into the elevator.

Then the guns go off.

The glass doors explode into fragments. Dauntless soldiers with blue armbands stand on the sidewalk outside, carrying guns I've never seen before, guns with narrow, blue beams of light streaming from above their barrels.

"Traitors!" someone screams.

The Dauntless draw their guns, almost in unison. I do not have one to draw, Tobias presses the button of the elevator sending us upwards. I almost yell at him that Tris is still there. He knows. He cares. But he trusts her. I stare at the people from inside the elevator, out of the glass case.

All around me, people drop to the ground. My fellow faction members. My closest friends. All of them falling—they must be dead, or dying—as the ear splitting bang of bullets filling my ears. The door opens and there is already someone in front of us.

Then I freeze. One of the blue beams is fixed on my chest. I dive sideways to get out of the line of fire, but I don't move fast enough.

The gun goes off. I fall.


	12. Chapter 12

THE PAIN SUBSIDES to a dull ache. I slide my hand under my jacket and feel for the wound.

I'm not bleeding. But the force of the gunshot knocked me down, so I had to have been hit with something. I run my fingers over my shoulder, and feel a hard bump where the skin used to be smooth.

I hear a crack against the floor next to my face, and a metal cylinder about the size of my hand rolls to a stop against my head. Before I can move it, white smoke sprays out of both ends. I cough, and throw it away from me, deeper into the lobby. It isn't the only cylinder, though—they are everywhere, filling the room with smoke that does not burn or sting. In fact, it only obscures my view for a few seconds before evaporating completely.

_What was the point of that?_

Lying on the floor all around me are Dauntless soldiers with their eyes closed. I frown as I look Uriah up and down—he doesn't seem to be bleeding. I see no wound near his vital organs, which means he isn't dead. So what knocked him unconscious? I look over my left shoulder, where Lynn fell in a strange, half-curled position. She's also unconscious.

The Dauntless traitors walk into the lobby, their guns held up. I decide to do what I always do when I'm not sure what's going on: I act like everyone else. I let my head drop and close my eyes. My heart pounds as the Dauntless's footsteps come closer, and closer, squeaking on the marble floors. I bite my tongue to suppress a cry of pain as one of them steps on my hand.

"Not sure why we can't just shoot them all in the head," one of them says. "If there's no army, we win."

"Now, Bob, we can't just kill _everyone_," a cold voice says.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I would know that voice anywhere. It belongs to Eric, leader of the Dauntless.

"No people means no one left to create prosperous conditions," Eric continues. "Anyway, it's not your job to ask questions." He raises his voice. "Half in the elevators, half in the stairwells, left and right! Go!"

There's a gun a few feet to my left. My heart sinks. It's empty.

My mind conjures a thousand possibilities about what I could do. But the truth remains, I might have to kill him. My heart swells.

I wait until I hear the last footstep disappear behind an elevator door or into a stairwell before opening my eyes. Everyone in the lobby appears to be unconscious. Whatever they gassed us with, it had to be simulation-inducing or I wouldn't be the only one awake. It doesn't make any sense—it doesn't follow the simulation rules I'm familiar with—but I don't have time to think it through.

I grab my knife and get up, trying to ignore the ache in my shoulder. I run over to one of the dead Dauntless traitors near the doorway. She was middle-aged; there are hints of gray in her dark hair. I try not to look at the bullet wound in her head, but the dim light glows on what looks like bone, and I gag.

_Think._ I don't care who she was, or what her name was, or how old she was. I care only about the blue armband she wears. I have to focus on that. I try to hook my finger around the fabric, but it doesn't come loose. It appears to be attached to her black jacket. I will have to take that, too.

I unzip my jacket and toss it over her face so I don't have to look at her. Then I unzip her jacket and pull it, first from her left arm, and then from her right arm, gritting my teeth as I slide it from beneath her heavy body.

"Tris!" someone says. I turn around, jacket in one hand, knife in the other. I put the knife away—the invading Dauntless weren't carrying them, and I don't want to be conspicuous.

Uriah stands behind me.

"Divergent?" I ask him. There is no time to be shocked.

"Yeah," he says.

"Get a jacket," I say.

He crouches next to one of the other Dauntless traitors, this one young, not even old enough to be a Dauntless member. I flinch at the sight of his death-pale face. Someone so young shouldn't be dead; shouldn't even have been here in the first place.

My face hot with anger, I shrug the woman's jacket on. Uriah pulls his own jacket on, his mouth pinched.

"_They're_ the only ones who are dead," he says quietly. "Something about that seem wrong to you?"

"They must have known we would shoot at them, but they came anyway," I say. "Questions later. We have to get up there."

"Up there? Why?" he says. "We should get out of here."

"You want to run away before you know what's going on?" I scowl at him. "Before the Dauntless upstairs know what hit them?"

"What if someone recognizes us?"

I shrug. "We just have to hope they won't."

I sprint toward the stairwell, and he follows me. As soon as my foot touches the first stair, I wonder what on earth I intend to do. There are bound to be more of the Divergent in this building, but will they know what they are? Will they know to hide? And what do I expect to gain from submerging myself in an army of Dauntless traitors?

Deep inside me I know the answer: I am being reckless. I will probably gain nothing. I will probably die.

And more disturbing still: I don't really care.

"They'll work their way upward," I say between breaths. "So you should … go to the third floor. Tell them to … evacuate. Quietly."

"Where are _you_ going, then?"

"Floor two," I say. I shove my shoulder into the second-floor door. I know what to do on the second floor: look for the Divergent.

As I walk down the hallway, stepping over unconscious people dressed in black and white, I think of a verse of the song Candor children used to sing when they thought no one could hear them:

_Dauntless is the cruelest of the five_

_They tear each other to pieces…._

It has never seemed truer to me than now, watching Dauntless traitors induce a sleeping simulation that is not so different from the one that forced them to kill members of Abnegation not a month ago.

We are the only faction that could divide like this. Amity would not allow a schism; no one in Abnegation would be so selfish; Candor would argue until they found a common solution; and even Erudite would never do something so illogical. We really are the cruelest faction.

But I already knew that.

I step over a draped arm and a woman with her mouth hanging open, and hum the beginning of the next verse of the song under my breath.

_Erudite is the coldest of the five_

_Knowledge is a costly thing…._

I wonder when Jeanine realized that Erudite and Dauntless would make a deadly combination. Ruthlessness and cold logic, it seems, can accomplish almost anything, including putting one and a half factions to sleep.

I scan faces and bodies as I walk, searching for irregular breaths, flickering eyelids, anything to suggest that the people lying on the ground are just pretending to be unconscious. So far, all the breathing is even and all the eyelids are still. Maybe none of the Candor are Divergent.

"Eric!" I hear someone shout from down the hall. I hold my breath as he walks right toward me. I try not to move. I know, if he recognizes me, he'll probably give me away. If I move, he'll look at me, and he'll recognize me, I know it. I look down, and tense so hard I tremble. _Don't look at me don't look at me don't look at me …_

Eric strides past me and down the hallway to my left. I should continue my search as quickly as possible, but curiosity urges me forward, toward whoever called for Eric. The shout sounded urgent.

When I lift my eyes, I see a Dauntless soldier standing over a kneeling woman. She wears a white blouse and a black skirt, and has her hands behind her head. Eric's smile looks greedy even in profile.

"Divergent," he says. "Well done. Bring her to the elevator bank. We'll decide which ones to kill and which ones to bring back later."

The Dauntless soldier grabs the woman by the ponytail and starts toward the elevator bank, dragging her behind him. She shrieks, and then scrambles to her feet, bent over. I try to swallow but it feels like I have a wad of cotton balls in my throat.

Eric continues down the hallway, away from me, and I try not to stare as the Candor woman stumbles past me, her hair still trapped in the fist of the Dauntless soldier. By now I know how terror works: I let it control me for a few seconds, and then force myself to act.

_One … two … three …_

I start forward with a new sense of purpose. Watching each person to see if they're awake is taking too much time. The next unconscious person I come across, I step hard on their pinkie finger. No response, not even a twitch. I step over them and find the next person's finger, pressing hard with the toe of my shoe. No response there either.

I hear someone else shout, "Got one!" from a distant hallway and start to feel frantic. I hop over fallen man after fallen woman, over children and teenagers and the elderly, stepping on fingers or stomachs or ankles, searching for signs of pain. I barely see their faces after a while, but still I get no response. I am playing hide-and-seek with the Divergent, but I'm not the only person who's "it."

And then it happens. I step on a Candor girl's pinkie, and her face twitches. Just a little—an impressive attempt at concealing the pain—but enough to catch my attention.

I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is near me, but they've all moved on from this central hallway. I check for the nearest stairwell—there's one just ten feet away, down a side hallway to my right. I crouch next to the girl's head.

"Hey, kid," I say as quietly as I can. "It's okay. I'm not one of them."

Her eyes open, just a little.

"There's a staircase about three yards away," I say. "I'll tell you when no one is watching, and then you have to run, understand?"

She nods.

I stand and turn in a slow circle. A Dauntless traitor to my left is looking away, nudging a limp Dauntless with her foot. Two Dauntless traitors behind me are laughing about something. One in front of me is spacing out in my direction, but then he lifts his head and starts down the hallway again, away from me.

"Now," I say.

The girl gets up and sprints toward the door to the stairwell. I watch her until the door clicks shut, and see my reflection in one of the windows. But I'm not standing alone in a hallway of sleeping people, like I thought. Max, another Dauntless leader, is standing right behind me.

I look at his reflection, and he looks back at me. I could make a break for it. If I move fast enough, he might not have the presence of mind to grab me. But I know, even as the idea occurs to me, that I won't be able to outrun him. And I won't be able to shoot him, because I didn't take a gun.

I spin around, bringing my elbow up as I do, and thrust it toward his face. It catches the end of his chin, but not hard enough to do any damage. He grabs my left arm with one hand and presses a gun barrel to my forehead with the other, smiling down at me.

"I don't understand," he says, "how you could possibly be stupid enough to come up here with no gun."

"Well, I'm smart enough to do this," I say. I stomp hard on his foot, which I fired a bullet into less than a month ago. He screams, his face contorting, and drives the heel of the gun into my jaw. I clench my teeth to suppress a groan. Blood trickles down my neck—he broke the skin.

Through all that, his grip on my arm does not loosen once. But the fact that he didn't just shoot me in the head tells me something: He's not allowed to kill me yet.

"I was surprised to discover you were awake," he says. "I was actually hoping you'd be one of the normal ones. You would make an excellent leader." I try to figure out what I can do that will be painful enough for him to release me. I've just decided on a hard kick to the groin when he slips behind me and grabs me by both arms, pressing against me so I can barely move my feet. His fingernails dig into my skin, and I grit my teeth, both from the pain and from the sickening feeling of his chest on my back.

"Did Tris tell you about the water tank? She thought studying one of the Divergent's reaction to a real-life version of a simulation would be fascinating," he says, and he presses me forward so I have to walk. His breath tickles my hair. "And I agreed. You see, ingenuity—one of the qualities we most value in Erudite—requires creativity." Tris hasn't said a word about a water tank.

He twists his hands so the calluses scrape against my arms. I shift my body slightly to the left as I walk, trying to position one of my feet between his advancing feet. I notice with fierce pleasure that he's limping.

"Sometimes creativity seems wasteful, illogical … unless it's done for a greater purpose. In this case, the accumulation of knowledge."

I stop walking just long enough to bring my heel up, hard, between his legs. A high-pitched cry hitches in his throat, stopped before it really began, and his hands go limp for just a moment. In that moment, I twist my body as hard as I can and break free. I don't know where I will run, but I have to run, I have to—

He grabs my elbow, yanking me back, and pushes his thumb into the wound in my hip, twisting until pain makes my vision go black at the edges, and I scream at the top of my lungs.

"I _thought_ I recalled from the footage of you that something happened to your hip," he says. "It seems I was right."

My knees crumple beneath me, and he grabs my collar almost carelessly, dragging me toward the elevator bank. The fabric digs into my throat, choking me, and I stumble after him. My body throbs with lingering pain.

When we reach the elevator bank, he forces me to my knees next to the Candor woman I saw earlier. She and four others sit between the two rows of elevators, kept in place by Dauntless with guns. I notice with a start that one of them is Tris.

"I want one gun on her at all times," says Eric. "Not just aimed at her. _On_ her." My heart drops. Then I notice his eyes. they are without their usual light. They are blank and almost expressionless. My voice hitches in my thrat and I have to cough to get it out.

A Dauntless man pushes a gun barrel into the back of my neck. It forms a cold circle on my skin. I lift my eyes to Eric. His face is red, his eyes watering.

"What's the matter, Eric?" I say, raising my eyebrows. "Afraid of a little girl?"

"I'm not stupid," he says, pushing his hands through his hair. "That little-girl act may have worked on me before, but it won't work again. You're the best attack dog they've got." He leans closer to me. "Which is why I'm sure you'll be put down soon enough."

One of the elevator doors opens, and a Dauntless soldier shoves Uriah—whose lips are stained with blood—toward the short row of the Divergent. Uriah glances at me, but I can't read his expression well enough to know if he succeeded or failed. If he's here, he probably failed. Now they'll find all the Divergent in the building, and most of us will die.

I should probably be afraid. But instead a hysterical laugh bubbles inside me, because I just remembered something. I watched as Four slipped a knife into Tris's back pocket. Now, if she had half a mind she'd use it.


	13. Chapter 13

-Tris-

I SHIFT MY hand back, centimetre by centimetre, so the soldier pointing a gun at me doesn't notice. The elevator doors open again, bringing more of the Divergent with more Dauntless traitors. The Candor woman on my right whimpers. Strands of her hair are stuck to her lips, which are wet with spit, or tears, I can't tell. My hand reaches the corner of my back pocket. I keep it steady, my fingers shaking with anticipation. I have to wait for the right moment, when Eric is close.

I focus on the mechanics of my breathing, imagining air filling every part of my lungs as I inhale, then remembering as I exhale how all my blood, oxygenated and unoxygenated, travels to and from the same heart.

It's easier to think of biology than the line of the Divergent sitting between the elevators. A Candor boy who can't be older than eleven sits to my left. He's braver than the woman to my right—he stares at the Dauntless soldier in front of him, unflinching. That's what I like about the Candor. They don't lie to other people and they don't lie to themselves. This boy knows he'll die, so he stares it in the face. He'd probab;ly like Ace, coming up with all smart ass comments about what a dumbass death is anyway.

Air in, air out. Blood pushed all the way to my extremities—the heart is a powerful muscle, the strongest muscle in the body in terms of longevity. More Dauntless arrive, reporting successful sweeps of specific floors of the Merciless Mart. Hundreds of people unconscious on the floor, shot with something other than bullets, and I have no idea why.

But I am thinking of the heart. Not of my heart anymore, but of Eric's, and how empty his chest will sound when his heart is no longer beating. Despite how much I hate him, I don't really want to kill him, at least not with a knife, up close where I can see the life leave him. But I have one chance left to do something useful, and if I want to hit the Erudite where it hurts, I have to take one of their leaders from them. I know Ace loves him, but that still doesn't make him a good guy.

I notice that no one ever brought the Candor girl I warned to the elevator bank, which means she must have gotten away. Good.

Eric clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace, back and forth, before the line of Divergent.

"My orders are to take only two of you back to Erudite headquarters for testing," says Eric. "The rest of you are to be executed. There are several ways to determine who among you will be least useful to us."

His footsteps slow when he approaches me. I tense my fingers, about to grab the knife handle, but he doesn't come close enough. He keeps walking and stops in front of the boy to my left.

"The brain finishes developing at age twenty-five," says Eric. "Therefore your Divergence is not completely developed."

He lifts his gun and fires.

A strangled scream leaps out of my body as the boy slumps to the ground, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Every muscle in my body strains toward him, but I hold myself back. _Wait, wait, wait._ I can't think of the boy. _Wait._ I force my eyes open and blink tears from them.

My scream accomplished one thing: now Eric stands in front of me, smiling. I caught his attention.

"You are also rather young," he says. "Nowhere near finished developing." I see Ace. She looks more frightened than I've ever seen her and her lip is bleeding where she bit it.

He steps toward me. My fingertips inch closer to the knife handle.

"Most of the Divergent get two results in the aptitude test. Some only get one. No one has ever gotten three, not because of aptitude, but simply because in order to get that result, you have to refuse to choose something," he says, moving closer still. I tilt my head back to look at him, at all the metal gleaming in his face, at his empty eyes.

"My superiors suspect that you got two, Tris," he says. "They don't think you're that complex—just an even blend of Abnegation and Dauntless—selfless to the point of idiocy. Or is that brave to the point of idiocy?"

I close my hand around the knife handle and squeeze. He leans closer.

"Just between you and me … _I_ think you might have gotten three, because you're the kind of bull headed person who would refuse to make a simple choice just because she was told to," he says. "Care to enlighten me?"

I lurch forward, pulling my hand out of my pocket. I close my eyes as I thrust the blade up and toward him. I don't want to see his blood.

I feel the knife go in and then pull it out again. My entire body throbs to the rhythm of my heart. The back of my neck is sticky with sweat. I open my eyes as Eric slumps to the ground, and then—chaos.

The Dauntless traitors aren't holding lethal guns, only ones that shoot whatever it is they shot at us before, so they all scramble for their real guns. As they do, Uriah launches himself at one of them and punches him hard in the jaw. The life goes out of the soldier's eyes and he falls, knocked out. Uriah takes the soldier's gun and starts shooting at the Dauntless closest to us. Ace catches a gun too, she starts to kill mercilessly. I imagine how she feels about Eric.

I reach for Eric's gun, so panicked I can barely see, and when I look up, I swear the amount of Dauntless in the room has doubled. Gunshots fill my ears, and I drop to the ground as everyone starts running. My fingers brush the gun barrel, and I shudder. My hands are too weak to grasp it.

A heavy arm wraps around my shoulders and shoves me toward the wall. My right shoulder burns, and I see the Dauntless symbol tattooed on the back of a neck. Tobias turns, crouched around me to shield me from the gunfire, and shoots.

"Tell me if anyone's behind me!" he says.

I peer over his shoulder, curling my hands into fists around his shirt.

There _are_ more Dauntless in the room, Dauntless without blue armbands—loyal Dauntless. My faction. My faction has come to save us. How are they awake?

The Dauntless traitors sprint away from the elevator bank. They were not prepared for an attack, not from all sides. Some of them fight back, but most run for the stairs. Tobias fires over and over again, until his gun runs out of bullets, and the trigger makes a clicking sound instead. My vision is too blurry with tears and my hands too useless to fire a gun. I scream into gritted teeth, frustrated. I can't help. I am worthless.

On the floor, Eric moans. Still alive, for now.

The gunshots gradually stop. My hand is wet. One glimpse of red tells me it's covered in blood—Eric's. I wipe it off on my pants and try to blink the tears away. My ears ring.

"Tris," Tobias says. "You can put the knife down now."


	14. Chapter 14

TOBIAS TELLS ME this story:

When the Erudite-Dauntless-Traitor-Bastard-Children reached the lobby stairwell, one of them, an Erudite woman, didn't go up to the second floor. Instead, she ran up to one of the highest levels of the building. There she evacuated a group of loyal Dauntless—including Tobias—to a fire escape the Dauntless traitors had not sealed off. Those loyal Dauntless gathered in the lobby and split into four groups that stormed the stairwells simultaneously, surrounding the Dauntless traitors, who had clustered around the elevator banks. The Dauntless traitors were not prepared for that much resistance. They thought everyone but the Divergent was unconscious, so they ran.

The Erudite woman was Cara. Will's older sister.

Heaving a sigh, I let the jacket slide from my arms and examine my shoulder. A metal disc about the size of my pinkie fingernail is pressed against my skin. Surrounding it is a patch of blue strands, like someone injected blue dye into the tiny veins just beneath the surface of my skin. Frowning, I try to peel the metal disc away from my arm, and feel a sharp pain.

Gritting my teeth, I wedge the flat of my knife blade under the disc and force it up. I scream into my teeth as the pain races through me, making everything go black for a moment. But I keep pushing, as hard as I can, until the disc lifts from my skin enough for me to get my fingers around it. Attached to the bottom of the disc is a needle.

I gag, grasp the disc in my fingertips, and pull one last time. This time, the needle comes free. It's as long as my littlest finger and smeared with my blood. I ignore the blood running down my arm and hold the disc and the needle up to the light above the sink.

Judging by the blue dye in my arm and the needle, they must have injected us with something. But what? Poison? An explosive?

I shake my head. If they had wanted to kill us, most of us were unconscious already, so they could have just shot us all. Whatever they injected us with isn't meant to kill us.

Someone knocks on the door. I don't know why—I'm in a public restroom, after all.

"Ace, you in there?" Uriah's muffled voice asks.

"Yeah," I call back.

Uriah looks better than he did an hour ago—he washed the blood from his mouth, and some of the colour has returned to his face. I'm struck, suddenly, by how handsome he is—all his features are proportionate, his eyes dark and lively, his skin bronze-brown. And he has probably always been that handsome. Only boys who have been handsome from a young age have that arrogance in their smile.

Not like Tobias, who is almost shy when he smiles, like he is surprised you bothered to look at him in the first place. Eric has that smile, the arrogant one. But not because he's handsome, because he's superior. And he knows it.

My throat aches. I put the needle and disc on the edge of the sink.

Uriah looks from me to the needle in my hand to the line of blood running from my shoulder to my wrist.

"Gross," he says.

"Wasn't paying attention," I say. I set the needle down and grab a paper towel, mopping up the blood on my arm. "How are the others?"

"Marlene's cracking jokes, as usual." Uriah's smile grows, putting a dimple in his cheek. "Lynn's grumbling. Wait, you yanked that out of your own arm?" He points to the needle. "God. Do you have no nerve endings or something?"

"I think I need a bandage."

"You think?" Uriah shakes his head. "You should get some ice for your face, too. So, everyone's waking up now. It's a madhouse out there."

I touch my jaw. It is tender where Max's gun struck me—I will have to put healing salve on it so it doesn't bruise.

"Is Eric dead?" I don't know which answer I'm hoping for, yes or no. Yes, then I'll be free of him, and besides, he's part of the enemy now.

"No. Some of the Candor decided to give him medical treatment." Uriah scowls at the sink. "Something about honourable treatment of prisoners. Kang's interrogating him in private right now. Doesn't want us there, disturbing the peace or whatever."

I stay silent.

"Yeah. Anyway, no one gets it," he says, perching on the edge of the sink next to mine. "Why storm in here and fire those things at us and then knock us all out? Why not just kill us?"

"No idea," I say. "The only use I see for it is that it helped them figure out who's Divergent and who's not. But that can't be the only reason they did it."

"I don't get why they have it out for us. I mean, when they were trying to mind control themselves an army, sure, but now? Seems useless."

I frown as I press a clean paper towel to my shoulder, to stop the bleeding. He's right. Jeanine already has an army. So why kill the Divergent now?

"Jeanine doesn't want to kill everyone," I say slowly. "She knows that would be illogical. Without each faction, society doesn't function, because each faction trains its members for particular jobs. What she wants is _control_."

I glance up at my reflection. My jaw is swollen, and fingernail marks are still on my arms. Disgusting.

"She must be planning another simulation," I say. "Same thing as before, but this time, she wants to make sure that everyone is either under its influence or dead."

"But the simulation only lasts for a certain period of time," he says. "It's not useful unless you're trying to accomplish something specific."

"Right." I sigh. "I don't know. I don't get it." I pick up the needle. "I don't get what this thing is either. If it was like the other simulation-inducing injections, it was just meant for one use. So why shoot these things at us just to put us unconscious? It doesn't make any sense."

"I dunno, but right now we've got a huge building full of panicked people to deal with. Let's go get you a bandage." He pauses and then says, "Can you do me a favour?"

"What is it?"

"Don't tell anyone I'm Divergent." He bites his lip. "Shauna's my friend, and I don't want her to suddenly become afraid of me."

"Sure," I say, forcing a smile. "I'll keep it to myself."

I am awake all night removing needles from people's arms. After a few hours I stop trying to be gentle. I just pull as hard as I can.

I find out that the Candor boy Eric shot in the head was named Bobby, and that Eric is in stable condition, and that of the hundreds of people in the Merciless Mart, only eighty don't have needles buried in their flesh, seventy of whom are Dauntless, one of whom is Christina. All night I puzzle over needles and serums and simulations, trying to inhabit the minds of my enemies.

In the morning, I run out of needles to remove and go to the cafeteria, rubbing my eyes. Jack Kang announced that we would have a meeting at noon, so maybe I can fit in a long nap after I eat.

When I walk into the cafeteria, though, I see Four.

In Abnegation, physical contact was not appreciated and it was weird to shake someones hand or give them a high-five – only the small, nessacery touches are allowed. In Dauntless, physical comfort is not well-liked either. So I am surprised when he folds me gently in his arms and just holds me for a second. I gasp before hugging him back. If there was ever a time I thought I didn't need my brother, I was wrong. Four is strong, and muscled and he smells like he always has. He pulls back and touches my chin, moving my head from side to side to examine it.

"It's nothing serious." He says, "You'll survive, although I admit, it could look better. God, I'm going to beat Eric and then shoot him in the head. If he, so much as, looks at you in the wrong way I will kill him. I'll burn his body and smoke the ash. Take his guts and make a sash. And then, use his bones to make my soap." He says it sharply, but more to himself than to me. We pull away and I notice his jaw clench and unclench until he spots Tris. For the first time in my life, I am happy to see her I come over to her. And, just like us, she hugs her brother, Caleb.

"Are you all right?" Caleb says, pulling back. "Your jaw …"

"It's nothing," Tris says. "Just swollen."

"I heard they got a bunch of the Divergent and started shooting them. Thank God they didn't find you."

"Actually, they did. But they only killed one," She says. I pinch the bridge of my nose to relieve some of the pressure in my head. "But I'm all right. When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago. I came with Marcus," he says. I stiffen. My heart aches. I shudder inwardly. The effect of his name after I thought he was dead is outrageous. "As our only legal political leader, he felt it was his duty to be here—we didn't hear about the attack until an hour ago. One of the factionless saw the Dauntless storming into the building, and news takes a while to travel among the factionless."

"Marcus is _alive_?" Tris says. We never actually saw him die when we escaped the Amity compound, but we just assumed he had—I'm not sure how I feel. Disappointed, maybe, because of the way he treated us? Or relieved, because the last Abnegation leader is still alive? Is it possible to feel both?

"He and Peter escaped, and walked back to the city," says Caleb.

I am not at all relieved to find out that Peter is still alive. "Where's Peter, then?"

"He is where you would expect him to be," Caleb replies.

"Erudite," I say. I shake my head. "What a—"

I can't even think of a word strong enough to describe him. Apparently I need to expand my vocabulary. They both turn to me..

Caleb's face twists for a moment, then he nods and touches her shoulder. "Are you hungry? Want me to get you something?"

"Yes, please," she says. "I'll be back in a little while, okay? I have to talk to Tobias."

"All right." Caleb squeezes her arm and walks off, probably to get in the miles-long cafeteria line.

-Tris-

Ace walks away too. Tobias and I stand yards away from each other for a few seconds.

He approaches me slowly.

"You okay?" he says.

"I might throw up if I have to answer that one more time," I say. "I don't have a bullet in my head, do I? So I'm good."

"Your jaw is so swollen you look like you have a wad of food in your cheek, and you just stabbed Eric," he says, frowning. "I'm not allowed to ask if you're okay?"

I sigh. I should tell him about Marcus, but I don't want to do it here, with so many people around. "Yeah. I'm okay."

His arm jerks like he was thinking of touching me but decided against it. Then he reconsiders and slides his arm around me, pulling me to him.

Suddenly I think maybe I'll let someone else take all the risks, maybe I'll just start acting selfishly so that I can stay close to Tobias without hurting him. All I want is to bury my face in his neck and forget anything else exists.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come get you," he whispers into my hair.

I sigh and touch his back with just my fingertips. I could stand here until I go unconscious from exhaustion, but I shouldn't; I can't. I pull back and say, "I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere quiet?"

He nods, and we leave the cafeteria. One of the Dauntless we pass yells, "Oh, look! It's _Tobias Eaton_!"

I had almost forgotten about the interrogation, and the name it revealed to all of Dauntless.

Another one yells, "I saw your daddy here earlier, Eaton! Are you gonna go hide?"

Tobias straightens and stiffens, like someone is training a gun at his chest instead of jeering at him.

"Yeah, are you gonna hide, coward?"

A few people around us laugh. I grab Tobias's arm and steer him toward the elevators before he can react. He looked like he was about to punch someone. Or worse.

"I was going to tell you—he came with Caleb," I say. "He and Peter escaped Amity—"

"What were you waiting for, then?" he says, but not harshly. His voice sounds somehow detached from him, like it is floating between us.

"It's not the kind of news you deliver in a cafeteria," I say.

"Fair enough," he says.

We wait in silence for the elevator, Tobias chewing on his lip and staring into space. He does that all the way to the eighteenth floor, which is empty. There, the silence wraps around me like Caleb's embrace did, calming me. I sit down on one of the benches on the edge of the interrogation room, and Tobias pulls Niles's chair over to sit in front of me.

"Didn't there used to be two of these?" he says, frowning at the chair.

"Yeah," I say. I think about Ace. I'd been told she threw it out. "I, uh … it got thrown out the window."

"Strange," he says. He sits. "So what did you want to talk about? Or was that about Marcus?"

"No, that wasn't it. Are you … all right?" I say cautiously.

"I don't have a bullet in my head, do I?" he says, staring at his hands. "So I'm fine. I'd like to talk about something else."

"I want to talk about simulations," I say. "But first, something else—your mother thought Jeanine would go after the factionless next. Obviously she was wrong—and I'm not sure why. It's not like the Candor are battle ready or anything—"

"Well, think about it," he says. "Think it through, like the Erudite."

I give him a look.

"What?" he says. "If you can't, the rest of us have no hope."

"Fine," I say. "Um … it had to be because Dauntless and Candor were the most logical targets. Because … the factionless are in multiple places, whereas we're all in the same place."

"Right," he says. "Also, when Jeanine attacked Abnegation, she got all the Abnegation data. My mother told me that the Abnegation had documented the factionless Divergent populations, which means that after the attack, Jeanine must have found out that the proportion of Divergent among the factionless is higher than among the Candor. That makes them an illogical target."

"All right. Then tell me about the serum again," I say. "It has a few parts, right?"

"Two," he says, nodding. "The transmitter and the liquid that induces the simulation. The transmitter communicates information to the brain from the computer, and vice versa, and the liquid alters the brain to put it in a simulation state."

I nod. "And the transmitter only works for one simulation, right? What happens to it after that?"

"It dissolves," he says. "As far as I know, the Erudite haven't been able to develop a transmitter that lasts for more than one simulation, although the attack simulation lasted far longer than any simulation I've seen before."

The words "as far as I know" stick in my mind. Jeanine has spent most of her adult life developing the serums. If she's still hunting down the Divergent, she's probably still obsessed with creating more advanced versions of the technology.

"What's this about, Tris?" he says.

"Have you seen this yet?" I say, pointing at the bandage covering my shoulder.

"Not up close," he says. "Zeke and I were hauling wounded Erudite up to the fourth floor all morning."

I peel away the edge of the bandage, revealing the puncture wound—no longer bleeding, thankfully—and the patch of blue dye that doesn't seem to be fading. Then I reach into my pocket and take out the needle that was buried in my arm.

"When they attacked, they weren't trying to kill us. They were shooting us with these," I say.

His hand touches the dyed skin around the puncture wound. I didn't notice it before because it was happening right in front of me, but he looks different than he used to, during initiation. He's let his facial hair grow in a little, and his hair is longer than I've ever seen it—dense enough to show me that it is brown, not black.

He takes the needle from me and taps the metal disc at the end of it. "This is probably hollow. It must have contained whatever that blue stuff in your arm is. What happened after you were shot?"

"They tossed these gas-spewing cylinders into the room, and everyone went unconscious. That is, everyone but Uriah and me and the other Divergent."

Tobias doesn't seem surprised. I narrow my eyes.

"Did you know that Uriah was Divergent?"

He shrugs. "Of course. I ran his simulations, too."

"And you never told me?"

"Privileged information," he says. "Dangerous information."

I feel a flare of anger—how many things is he going to keep from me?—and try to stifle it. Of course he couldn't tell me Uriah was Divergent. He was just respecting Uriah's privacy. It makes sense.

I clear my throat. "You saved our lives, you know," I say. "Eric was trying to hunt us down."

"I think we're past keeping track of who has saved whose life." He looks at me for a few long seconds.

"Anyway," I say to break the silence. "After we figured out that everyone was asleep, Uriah ran upstairs to warn the people who were up there, and I went to the second floor to figure out what was going on. Eric had all the Divergent by the elevators, and he was trying to figure out which of us he was going to take back with him. He said he was allowed to take two. I don't know why he was going to take any."

"Odd," he says.

"Any ideas?"

"My guess is that the needle injected you with a transmitter," he says, "and the gas was an aerosol version of the liquid that alters the brain. But why …" A crease appears between his eyebrows. "Oh. She put everyone to sleep to find out who the Divergent were."

"You think that's the only reason for shooting us with transmitters?"

He shakes his head, and his eyes lock on mine. Their blue is so dark and familiar that I feel like it could swallow me whole. For a moment I wish it would, so that I could escape this place and all that has happened.

"I think you've already figured it out," he says, "but you want me to contradict you. And I'm not going to."

"They've developed a long-lasting transmitter," I say.

He nods.

"So now we're all wired for multiple simulations," I add. "As many as Jeanine wants, maybe."

He nods again.

My next breath shakes on the way out of my mouth. "This is really bad, Tobias."

In the hallway outside the interrogation room, he stops, leaning against the wall.

"So you attacked Eric," he says. "Was that during the invasion? Or when you were by the elevators?"

"By the elevators," I say.

"One thing I don't understand," he says. "You were downstairs. You could have just run away. But instead, you decided to dive into a crowd of armed Dauntless all by yourself. And I'm willing to bet you weren't carrying a gun."

I press my lips together.

"Is that true?" he demands.

"What makes you think I didn't have a gun?" I scowl.

"You haven't been able to touch a gun since the attack," he says. "I understand why, with the whole Will thing, but—"

"That has nothing to do with it."

"No?" He lifts his eyebrows.

"I did what I had to do."

"Yeah. But now you should be done," he says, pulling away from the wall to face me. Candor hallways are wide, wide enough for all the space I want to keep between us. "You should have stayed with the Amity. You should have stayed far away from all of this."

"No, I shouldn't have," I say. "You think you know what's best for me? You have no idea. I was going crazy with the Amity. Here I finally feel … sane again."

"Which is odd, considering you are acting like a psychopath," he says. "It's not brave, choosing the position you were in yesterday. It's beyond stupid—it's suicidal. Don't you have any regard for your own life?"

"Of course I do!" I retort. "I was trying to do something useful!"

For a few seconds he just stares at me.

"You're more than Dauntless," he says in a low voice. "But if you want to be just like them, hurling yourself into ridiculous situations for no reason and retaliating against your enemies without any regard for what's ethical, go right ahead. I thought you were better than that, but maybe I was wrong!"

I clench my hands, my jaw.

"You shouldn't insult the Dauntless," I say. "They took you in when you had nowhere else to go. Trusted you with a good job. Gave you all your friends."

I lean against the wall, my eyes on the floor. The tiles in the Merciless Mart are always black and white, and here they are in a checker pattern. If I don't focus my eyes, I see exactly what the Candor don't believe in—grey. Maybe Tobias and I don't believe in it either. Not really.

I weigh too much, more than my frame can support, so much I should fall right through the floor. Then I think of Ace. How dare he lecture me about recklessness when his own sister goes into fights just as easily as I do?

"Tris."

I keep staring.

"_Tris."_

I finally look at him.

"I just don't want to lose you."

We stand there for a few minutes. I don't say what I'm thinking, which is that he might be right. There is a part of me that wants to be lost, that struggles to join my parents and Will so that I don't have to ache for them anymore. A part of me that wants to see whatever comes next.

"So you're her brother?" says Lynn. "I guess we know who got the good genes."

I laugh at the expression on Caleb's face, his mouth drawn into a slight pucker and his eyes wide.

"When do you have to get back?" I say, nudging him with my elbow.

I bite into the sandwich Caleb got me from the cafeteria line. I am nervous to have him here, mixing the sad remains of my family life with the sad remains of my Dauntless life. What will he think of my friends, my faction? What will my faction think of him?

"Soon," he says. "I don't want anyone to worry."

"I didn't realize Susan had changed her name to 'Anyone,'" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Ha-ha," he says, making a face at me.

Teasing between siblings should feel familiar, but it doesn't for us. Abnegation discouraged anything that might make someone feel uncomfortable, and teasing was included.

I can feel how cautious we are with each other, now that we're discovering a different way to relate in light of our new factions and our parents' deaths. Every time I look at him, I realize that he's the only family I have left and I feel desperate, desperate to keep him around, desperate to narrow the gap between us.

"Is Susan another Erudite defector?" says Lynn, stabbing a string bean with her fork. Uriah, Ace and Tobias are still in the lunch line, waiting behind two dozen Candor who are too busy bickering to get their food. Ace doesn't seem to want to leave Uriah's side for too long. She's missed him. I can tell.

"No, she was our neighbour when we were kids. She's Abnegation," I say.

"And you're involved with her?" she asks Caleb. "Don't you think that's kind of a stupid move? I mean, when all this is over, you'll be in different factions, living in completely different places…."

"Lynn," Marlene says, touching her shoulder, "shut up, will you?"

Across the room, something blue catches my attention. Cara just walked in. I put down my sandwich, my appetite gone, and look up at her with my head lowered. She walks to the far corner of the cafeteria, where a few tables of Erudite refugees sit. Most of them have abandoned their blue clothes in favour of black-and-white ones, but they still wear their glasses. I try to focus on Caleb instead—but Caleb is watching the Erudite, too. my heart thumps as I think of Will.

"I can't go back to Erudite any more than _the_y can," says Caleb. "When this is over, I won't have a faction."

For the first time I notice how sad he looks when he talks about the Erudite. I didn't realize how difficult the decision to leave them must have been for him.

"You could go sit with them," I say, nodding toward the Erudite refugees.

"I don't know them." He shrugs. "I was only there for a month, remember?"

Uriah drops his tray on the table, scowling. "I overheard someone talking about Eric's interrogation in the lunch line. Apparently he knew almost _nothing_ about Jeanine's plan." Ace slides in next to him with her own tray.

"What?" Lynn slaps her fork on the table. "How is that even possible?"

Uriah shrugs, and sits.

"I'm not surprised," Caleb says.

Everyone stares at him.

"What?" He flushes. "It would be stupid to confide your entire plan to one person. It's infinitely smarter to give little pieces of it to each person working with you. That way, if someone betrays you, the loss isn't too great."

"Oh," says Uriah.

Lynn picks up her fork and starts eating again.

"I heard the Candor made ice cream," says Marlene, twisting her head around to see the lunch line. "You know, as a kind of 'it sucks we got attacked, but at least there are desserts' thing."

"I feel better already," says Lynn dryly.

"It probably won't be as good as Dauntless cake," says Marlene mournfully. She sighs, and a strand of mousy brown hair falls in her eyes.

"We had good cake," I tell Caleb.

"We had fizzy drinks," he says.

"Ah, but did you have a ledge overlooking an underground river?" says Marlene, waggling her eyebrows. "Or a room where you faced all your nightmares at once?"

"No," says Caleb, "and to be honest, I'm kind of okay with that."

"_Si-ssy,"_ sings Marlene.

"_All_ your nightmares?" says Caleb, his eyes lighting up. "How does that work? I mean, are the nightmares produced by the computer or by your brain?"

"Oh God." Lynn drops her head into her hands. "Here we go."

Marlene launches into a description of the simulations, and I let her voice, and Caleb's voice, wash over me as I finish my sandwich. Then, despite the clatter of forks and the roar of hundreds of conversations all around me, I rest my head on the table and fall asleep.


End file.
